


Quintessence of Life: Fight for Peace

by Athenais_Penelope_Clemence



Series: Quintessence of Life [3]
Category: 12th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, Robin Hood (BBC 2006), Robin Hood (Traditional), Robin Hood - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Crusades, Death, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mental Anguish, Romance, Sexual Content, Swordfighting, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 331,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence/pseuds/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having been officially declared dead but having survived his grave wound, Robin returns to England only to discover that King Richard disappeared on the way from Acre. No longer enemies, Robin and Guy fight against Prince John and the Black Knights as brothers-in-arms, assisted by Archer and others. This is part three of the long epic (trilogy).</p><p>The main characters are Robin and Guy. Robin and Guy have canonical portrayals; they change as the plot develops.</p><p>Author’s note: the epilogue was posted.</p><p>The epilogue will be posted in a few months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Grand Drama in Nottingham

**Author's Note:**

> This is part three of the long epic “Quintessence of Life”, a long and captivating epic about love, hatred, politics, treachery, and mysteries. This part is called “Fight for Peace”.
> 
> I am posting the prologue to part 3 “Fight for Peace”, even though there are six chapters left in "Mysteries Unveiled". I’m planning to finish part 2 of the long epic by the New Year. So far you have only the prologue, with some spoilers. 
> 
> In ”Fight for Peace”, Robin Hood finally returns to England after having been officially declared dead but having survived his grave wound. He discovers that King Richard disappeared on the way from Acre. No longer enemies, Robin and Guy fight against Prince John and the Black Knights as brothers-in-arms, assisted by Archer and others. 
> 
> The main characters are Robin and Guy. 
> 
> The plot is largely focused on the political aspect of Robin Hood's cause – fighting for England and King Richard. The second part of Season 2 was largely about Robin's efforts to save the King and defeat the Black Knights, and this story has kind of a similar plotline. Robin is portrayed as the King's man and the people's hero, but anyway more as the King's man, which is how I believe he was portrayed on the show. The plot is focused on the sophisticated conspiracies against King Richard.
> 
> The love component of this story/novel includes Robin/Melisende, Robin/Marian, Guy/Marian, Guy/Meg, Will/Djaq, Prince John/Isabella, and some other relationships. There will be interesting developments between Guy, Meg, and Marian, and I hope you will like the Guy/Meg storyline. There will be several chapters, in which action takes place in Aquitaine, at the court of love, and these chapters are very beautiful and dramatic. If you have ever read something about Eleanor of Aquitaine’s court, then you know what I mean; if you know nothing, then you will be positively surprised.
> 
> Warning! ”Fight for Peace” is more tragic than the previous parts, and there is a major character death in the plotline. Rest assured that Guy is going to find happiness and peace, which he rightfully deserves. Unfortunately, Robin has a bittersweet end because I have always considered Robin a more tragic character than Guy, but I promise that our hero will find peace in the very end. 
> 
> The plot is not absolutely historically accurate. Nevertheless, there are many events from history, like King Richard's captivity. Some historical events are changed for fictional purposes.
> 
> Please be aware that there are scenes of violence and bloodshed. There are also extremely sensitive scenes, very emotional and dramatic.
> 
> Undoubtedly, I don't own the characters and the show. I hope you will enjoy reading ”Fight for Peace”.

  **Quintessence of Life**

**Part 3**

**Fight for Peace**

**Prologue**

The air was fresh, pure and cool; the sky was dark, and the bleak sun was slowly rising in the east. Sir Robin Fitzooth of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and Count de Bordeaux, stood near the window, looking outside, into the harbor of Calais. He watched the howling storm rage over the sea, the stones of the pier shaken by the violence of waves. The weather was wretched and wet, and every vessel was anchored in the harbor as sailors waited for storms to abate before trying to cross the English Channel.

Sir William de Longchamp had left Robin and his friends the next day after their arrival in Calais. Robin’s plans to sail to Dover the next morning had been ruined by the weather. Robin and his friends – Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, and Sir Carter of Stretton, Baron Clifton – were the most anxious men among the travelers; Archer, Will, Djaq, and Tuck were able to wait patiently.

Robin let out a sigh of frustration and despair. Today he didn’t go to the harbor with his friends and his newly found half-brother, staying in his room at the inn and trying to have some rest at the insistence of his friends. He waited for Robert, Archer, and Carter to return, and he was very restless; he often paced the room back and forth, or he could stand near the window, looking at the leaden sky, praying to God for a break in the weather.

“Are you again watching the storm?” a familiar voice spoke in English with a slight Eastern accent.

Robin turned around and locked his gaze with Djaq’s. A large smile blossomed on his face, and Djaq smiled back at him. He stalked towards the young Saracen woman and scooped her into his arms, pulling her into an affectionate embrace. He was happy that Djaq had accompanied them on their voyage back to England not only because she was a physician and he often needed her help, but also because he loved her and wanted her back in England.

Robin drew back and stared at Djaq. “I am glad to see you, Djaq.” He took a step back.

Djaq smiled at him. “Is that really better to see me than watching the storm?”

Robin’s eyes sparkled with the old, familiar mischievous twinkle. “Yeah, you know that I am a ladies man. I like women more than storms.”

Djaq laughed. She was very fond of Robin’s dryly humorous nature right from the start of her life in Sherwood, and now she was also relieved to see a glimpse of the old Robin with his shining eyes and his cheeky smile. She was concerned about Robin since his awakening in Jerusalem. As a qualified physician, she knew very well how profound an impact of death could be on a patient, and she watched him with an attentive, keen eye every day, trying to understand what was happening in his head.

“It is good to see you in a better mood.”

A smile was gone from his face, and his expression evolved into one of sarcasm. “Well, sometimes you cannot pretend that you are in a good mood.”

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know you are perplexed.”

“Yes. I am very worried about King Richard.”

“I think even worse than worried, Robin.”

Robin was locked in a silent battle with his chilling emotions throughout many days since he had heard about the king’s disappearance, and his heart turned leaden at the thought of Richard’s possible death. He didn’t want to lose Richard – his king, confidant, friend, and half-brother after surviving his seemingly mortal wound. He loved Richard too much to lose him so soon after he had learned the truth about their relationship. He was ready to do everything to save the king and England.

There was a tremulous wail of mournful fear in Robin’s heart. He feared that King Richard was in grave danger and that Prince John would do something bad to Marian. He had to save Richard again. He had to save Marian from the clutches of Prince John and the Earl of Buckingham. He also wanted to know what had happened to Guy when the fool had tried to kill the sheriff and had been captured by Prince John’s men. He tried to push a throbbing ache deeper inside himself, but without success.

“Yes,” he confessed.

“I understand.”

“The waiting time is like an eternity,” Robin complained.

“And your anxiety is increasing with every day passing,” Djaq voiced her observations.

“Yes.” His voice was barely audible.

Djaq gave him a long, ever-penetrating glance; then she sighed heavily. “But you are worried not only about the king,” she said cautiously.

“You understand me much better than others.”

“You are a difficult man to understand, Robin.”

“Yes, I am,” Robin agreed, a tiny smile quivering in the corners of his lips.

“It is about Marian, isn’t it?”

“Of course.” He glanced away, his eyes focused on the vast expanse of the raging sea. “She is held captive in the Tower of London. They are going to coerce her into a marriage with Buckingham.”

Djaq knew that Robin was also torn between two women – Marian and his wife. “Have you understood whom you love more?” she asked directly.

Robin turned his gaze at Djaq. “I can hide nothing from you, Djaq.” He was quiet for a moment. “I love each of them differently,” he confessed with something like regret in his voice, bowing his head as if he were unable to look at the woman who could read his thoughts so well.

“Robin, you cannot allow yourself to be so confused! It won’t make you and your wife happy!”

He knew that she was right. Marian’s confusion with her feelings had brought much pain into Guy’s life and his life as well, and he didn’t want to cause more pain to Melisende and himself. “And how can I do that, Djaq? I cannot prohibit myself from feeling just because I want it to stop!”

Djaq stared into his eyes. “You have to ask yourself one simple question,” she continued, stressing every word she spoke, as if she were guiding him from his confusion to the truth that shone with an unearthly glow in the darkness. “Ask yourself whom you need more – Marian or Melisende.” At the sight of confusion on his face, she decided to elaborate. “You have to ask yourself what gives you peace – your love for your wife or your lingering affection for Marian.”

“My love for Melisende,” he answered unhesitatingly.

“Love cannot always bring pain. Love cannot always result in a war with your partner,” Djaq speculated. “You have sweet memories of the happy and carefree days of your youth, and you may love Marian as a part of these days, but now you have a family.”

Robin smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling. “I do love my wife and my son.” Then his smile faded away. “And it would have been a great loss to me… if something happened to one of them.”

“Then you should love what you have at the moment, Robin.”

“Not looking back, right?”

“That’s what I mean. Sometimes it is better to run away from your problems, and this is one of the few cases when you have to do that, Robin.”

Robin sighed. “I told my wife that I love her when we were in Bordeaux.”

“And it is true. Everything else – the past – is not important.” She could see the painful glitter in his eyes, knowing how difficult it was to show his naked soul to her, but she was glad that he did that. “And then it will be as God wills it,” she concluded.

Robin looked thoughtful, his gaze distant. “I was very happy, very fortunate, very arrogant, very impulsive, very righteous, and very proud,” he said in a low voice vibrating in his chest. “Too fortunate. Too arrogant. Too righteous. Too hot-headed. Too happy for a little while. Most importantly, too full of illusions.” He gave a heavy sigh. “And now I am lost and confused.”

Djaq turned her gaze at Robin, her eyes penetrating too far into his thoughts. “Death often has such a strange effect on those who cheat it – you begin to see the world in a different light.”

Robin nodded at her, and she nodded back, a sign that she had understood him. Indeed, Djaq knew what was happening to him – he struggled to find his true path in the world after his resurrection. Djaq could also see that Robin wasn’t entirely ready yet to face reality and struggle with the demons that had driven him to the very brink of sanity. He was overwhelmed by conflicted, intimidating emotions lately, which hurt somewhere deep inside of him and clouded his perception of reality.

Robin had undergone a cycle of nature – he had died and then had come back from the dead. He was somewhere between the past and the present, and his future seemed misty and bleak. Robin longed to again experience a sensation of perfect bliss, which he had felt by during his dying moments when he hadn’t wanted to come back to earth, not wishing to take an invisible hand that had been extended to him in order to direct him on the route back to life. He was glad that he had survived, but his burning desire to again feel the same bliss terrified him out of his wits.

He was constantly haunted by nightmares, by visions of doom and death. Flashes of the tragic scene when he had lain on the crimson-soaked sand in Imuiz sent a chill of dread through him. In such moments, squeezing his eyes shut, Robin forced his mind to go blank, and he felt as if a black hole were opening up inside him every time he thought back to the events in Imuiz. At least dreams of normal, peaceful life became more frequent, not like during the first days after his awakening when he had almost expected that he would die by sunset.

Robin had come to terms with reality, accepting that the past was gone forever and that he had a new life ahead, but it was not easy at all. The world was whirling, changing its colors from black to white. Robin's mood changed as rapidly as time moved forward. He could be frightened and in a moment elated, scared and then excited, hoping desperately that the peculiar limbo, where he was living in, would finally end.

Robin sighed audibly. “My world has changed too much, and so have I.”

“You don’t have dreams and illusions left, do you?” Djaq knew the truth, but she wanted confirmation.

Robin swung around and walked away from the window. He seated himself into an armchair near the hearth. By the glowing firelight, he looked excessively pale as he leaned back in his seat. In spite of having spent several months in Jerusalem, Robin hadn’t tanned even a little, for he had been sheltered from the sun by the roof of the palace where he had spent all the time recovering from his wound.

Staring into the emptiness of the room, Robin spoke. “At times, you have to take part in a bloody war, spill a lot of blood, lose some of your friends, save the king, lose a woman you loved, and finally give your own life for the cause – only to understand that it was all for nothing because _your fight has always been ultimately futile_.” He trailed off, lowering his head, his chin on his chest. “You make war for peace and justice, and you fight so desperately that you put on the line not only your own life, but also lives of those whom you love. In the end, you lose your life, and death makes you disenchanted.”

Djaq came to Robin and seated herself in the armchair next to his. “Nothing happens without a reason – no fight, no war, no bloodshed, no loss, and so salvation,” she spoke rhetorically, looking at him. “I don’t know God’s will, and I have no idea what mission for each of his children he chose, but I know that everything has a reason and a consequence.”

Robin turned his gaze at her. “And what are the reasons for my fight?”

She gave him a small smile. “Robin, it is not exactly right that you have achieved absolutely nothing in this war,” she said softly. “The reasons for your fight are noble – peace and justice. There can never be absolute peace and justice, but your fight, nevertheless, makes a great difference and gives people hope for the better future and life.”

“You think it makes my fight worthy?”

“Yes, I do think so. Giving hope and making a difference are your achievements.” She paused, letting him have more time to understand her words. “Often hope is the only thing that helps people survive and fight for the greater good,” she added, her voice stressing every word.

There was a pang of sadness at his heart as he recalled deaths of some friends and his own death. “I have already lost too much in this fight. We don’t know our future, and here can be even more losses.”

“There are always losses in any fight, all the more in a fight for something that you want to have but cannot have in real life,” she commented, her expression contemplative. “It was your choice to begin this fight, and it has a good purpose even if you cannot change the whole world. Yet, you can try to have something you want in a different way.”

An eloquent pause followed as Robin was pondering over the situation. "Maybe you are right," he said at last. His voice sounded almost cheerful, and he smiled faintly. "I can have peace in my own lands – in Huntingdon and in Locksley – after the king's return, and my people will prosper then."

There was a mirthful chuckle from Djaq. “So you see that Robin Hood’s cause is not completely futile.”

“It seems so.”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied. “Thank you, Djaq.”

She smiled widely. “Welcome, Robin.”

Robin stood up and came to the window. “Where are they? They should have already returned!”

Djaq emitted a heavy sigh. “Robin, you have been full of anxiety and alarm since we learned about the king’s disappearance. But it cannot continue this way.”

“I am fine,” he said, not looking at her. His eyes took in the dark sky that foretold a new storm.

“Robin,” she called softly.

He turned to face her, his expression blank but his eyes dark with anxiety. “What?”

“How will you save the king if you cannot control your own life?”

For a fleeting instant, Djaq could see a glimpse of vulnerability on her friend’s face, but then Robin collected himself and his expression recovered neutrality. “Perhaps I am being selfish now, but I tell you frankly: it seems that only Robert, Carter, and I are worried about the king. I know that all of you will fight by my side, but I am not sure that each of us is ready to risk their lives to get Richard out of trouble. The king needs us now more than he ever needed us before!” He sighed and paused for a while. “The only thing I want is to have the king at home and live in peace with my family.”

“I am aware what you want, and we all want peace.” She trailed off, frowning thoughtfully. “But you have to understand that not everyone wants to die for the absentee king who cares more about foreign wars than about his people,” she added, anticipating to see Robin angry.

But Djaq was mistaken: Robin didn’t throw an angry barb at her, and his response was a plaintive smile on his face. The illusion that the king was God incarnate on earth was gone, and Robin could see Richard in true colors, but he was tied to the man by blood and it meant everything to him. “I know that Richard is not an ideal king, but the alternative – Prince John – is even worse,” he said quietly. “Maybe the king is not worthy of your, Will’s, Archer’s, or Tuck’s loyalty, but I personally will do everything to find and save him even if I have to give my life for him again.”

“Robin, _you have a personal reason to be so loyal to the king_.”

“Yes, I do have it.”

“But to save the king, you have to think of yourself because even though your wound has almost healed, your health is still very fragile and can worsen in English cold climate. Your conflicting emotions and your inability to take a hold of them will only aggravate the situation: the more nervous and anxious you will be, the worse you will feel and the sooner you will find yourself again bedridden.”

“You are right,” he acknowledged, albeit reluctantly. Indeed, he was not in the best shape: if he made a sharp movement, he still felt nagging pain deep inside in his stomach, and his heinous scar, which he hated with all his heart as a reminder of his death, often throbbed in pain.

“You have to take your emotions over control,” Djaq said meaningfully, her voice soft and persuasive. “If you don’t do that, you will be unable to lead and fight.”

“I will try,” he promised, but there was no confidence in his voice.

They heard voices in the corridor, and then the door opened as Robin’s friends entered, returning from the harbor. Robin and Djaq rose to their feet automatically, and Robin rushed to Robert de Beaumont. But there was no good news: the wind slackened somewhat, but the fog still shrouded the shore, so it was impossible to sail. They had to wait, and the tension of waiting was becoming unbearable.

§§§

Sir Guy Fitzcorbet of Gisborne and Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough spent an indefinite amount of time imprisoned in the underground dungeons under the Castle of Nottingham – _the underground hell_ as Vaisey had called the prison and the tunnel system which he had created to have the secret route for possible escape and the place to hide his treasures from Robin Hood and his gang. Time was passing in a monotonous routine, and only Megan and Guy’s rare conversations distracted them from the harrowing reality of impending death.

Guy knew that he had deserved his misery. But Megan had become a prisoner because she had learned Prince John’s secret about King Richard’s capture in Austria, and she had to survive to pass this information to the king’s loyal men. She was young and innocent, loyal to King Richard, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, and England, and she deserved to have a long, happy life instead of dying in the dungeons or on the gallows. But it seemed that there was nothing Guy could do to save her.

Three weeks ago, Guy had been again put to the rack: the Baron of Rotherham had flogged him brutally, but it hadn't been as bad as the first flogging immediately after his capture. The guards had taken the beaten and unconscious Guy to his cell from the torture room, and Isabella had asked Doctor Blight to come and tend to his wounds. As Guy had been more dead than alive, he had needed constant care, and Megan had been allowed to live in Guy's cell. Guy had been feverish and unconscious for two weeks while Megan had been doing everything to ease his sufferings and save his life.

When Guy had regained his consciousness, he had been as weak as a newborn child not destined to live long in the world, and Megan had always been by his side. Isabella had been so shocked to see Guy utterly broken that she had allowed Megan to be near Guy without protesting and expressing her displeasure. Guy had been in sheer hell, feverish and possibly dying, and Megan had become his only saving grace in the darkness, his angel of salvation.

After his fever had broken, Megan had been no longer permitted to spend time in Guy’s cell. Guy’s recovery had been a long one, but he had never complained of having constant pain in his back. Now Guy felt much better than weeks ago as some of his physical strength had already returned and he had begun to recuperate, though he was still weak. But as soon as he could stand and walk, he swore that he would make an attempt to break out of the dungeons together with Meg.

Guy lifted himself into a sitting position on his straw mattress, and then rose to his feet. He walked towards the grating that separated his cell from Megan’s. “Meg, are you awake?”

“Guy, if I didn’t talk to you in the past hour, it doesn’t mean that I am sleeping,” Megan answered in a steady, loud voice. “Do you already miss my company, my dark knight?”

“It is not a time for jokes, Meg,” he grumbled, irritated.

Megan laughed at him. “You can brood in silence, listen to the sound of water dropping from the ceiling, or enjoy my witty humor,” she said teasingly. “What is better, Guy?”

He smirked. “Your constant talk entertains me.”

She laughed merrily, and then climbed to her feet; she walked towards the grating where Guy stood, looking at her. She stared at him, her eyes large and expressive. She thought that Guy looked even paler than she had ever seen him before in the bleak rays of the cold sun that penetrated the dungeons through the only window at the level of the ceiling, also the surface level.

Guy stared back at Megan, almost breathless, thinking of how beautiful, honest, and yet enigmatic her face was. Megan was like the sunlight in the darkness that surrounded them from all sides, and the world of misery suddenly seemed to be full of the most spirit-stirring, intoxicating tunes. She was such a natural beauty in the way that one could feel there was no manipulation of light or pose which could wipe the delicate shade of honesty and innocence from her features.

Megan chuckled. “My talk is not senseless, Guy,” she said. “I would have never involved an intelligent man like you into idle talk. That’s why I am always telling you about the court of love, the politics in the Angevin Empire, and the latest fashions at various royal courts.” She paused, as if remembering something. “Ah, it slipped from my mind! I also spend much time talking to you about your sins, about what is good and what is bad.” She winked at him. “So I am even trying to annoy you with any kind of nonsense.”

For a brief moment, Guy forgot about everything else, and his mood really improved. “You are a good companion, and you know that. But you want my praise, right?”

She shrugged elegantly. “I don’t think that I deserve your praise, even if I am willing to learn more about your crimes and your desire for redemption.” She playfully pointed a finger at him. “And my talk is not like a talk of babblers and gossipers which is usually incomprehensible because they talk too much and too quickly.”

Guy broke into laughter. “Is it Queen Eleanor’s school of wit?”

“You either have wit, or you don’t.”

Suddenly, his expression turned serious. “Meg, you must be prepared.”

“Why?”

“Soon the guards will come to the cell, and I will have to do something to get us out.”

“Guy, are you really able to fight with them?” she asked with concern.

“I am not as physically strong as I used to be, but I have to do something to save us.”

Megan nodded in understanding. “What should I do?”

“I will overpower the guards. I will tell you what to do once I am done with them,” he replied hastily.

“Be careful,” she requested. Then she returned to her straw mattress.

Guy and Megan lapsed into silence. Tapping lightly on the wall, Gisborne waited, his ears strained to hear the footsteps in the corridor. Guy’s heart pounded as he heard two guards approach him, praying that his simple plan would work.

He positioned himself sideways on the floor, disgusted with the feeling of rotten straw beneath his body. He was pretending that he had fallen senseless from exhaustion, sleep, fear, or illness, hoping that he would outsmart the guards. He only needed to appear unable to respond, talk, or stand. Guy held his breath as the heavy iron door opened, and a beam of light from the torches shone into his barely closed eyes. Two guards strode forward, looking at Guy with curious eyes.

“Gisborne has passed out again, and today he hasn’t even been again tortured yet,” the first guard complained, and there was a nasty laugh in his voice. He leaned over to grab one of Guy’s arms. “Come and help me to take him from here,” he told the other man.

The second man grumbled and complied. The guards broke into a taunting laughter as they grabbed Guy’s shoulders. Guy forced himself to remain motionless in their grasp as they pulled him up and started dragging him to a straw mattress.

“This bastard Gisborne is heavy,” the second man lamented.

The first guard smirked. “He used to be our master once, but now he is nothing.”

The second man sneered. “He deserves to die in his cell and be eaten by worms.”

They were once Guy’s own men! Guy wanted to scream that they were traitors and ungrateful brats after serving him for several years and finally turning their backs on him. He felt betrayed and was seething in anger, but he forced himself to stay quiet, swallowing his humiliation. He knew that there would be little time for him to attack the guards, resist their counterattack, win, and then run away before their escape could be prevented. He had to succeed for Meg and for himself.

One of the guards grunted, pausing to catch his breath. Then the two men lifted Guy and threw him on the mattress, and it was time for Guy to act. Feeling a soundless burst of energy, Guy shot to his feet, taking the two guards so by surprise that one of them fell back, hitting his head against the wall and giving a howl of pain. The man was ambushed and lost his consciousness.

As the second guard was about to call for help, Guy turned to face him and grabbed him by his throat, squeezing it tightly. The man’s eyes bulged in fear, but Guy had no intention of killing him, even though the wretched traitor deserved death. Guy slammed his fist into the guard’s temple, and the man slumped over like a dead man, though he was merely senseless.

Guy looked down at the two guards and spat at them, cursing the day when he had taken them into Vaisey’s service. Then he crunched and found the keys. He unlocked his shackles and threw them away. Rubbing his wrists once he was free of the ties, he breathed a sigh of relief; then he found the keys from Megan’s cell, feeling his heart beating faster in euphoria.

“Meg,” Guy called. “It is done.”

“Did you find the keys?” Megan asked in a hoarse voice as she jumped to her feet.

“Yes, I did.” Guy looked at the door to his cell. It was still open – it was his chance to get freedom back and he intended to use it. “Can you fight?”

Her heart pounded harder in delight at the thought that they would probably be free soon. “My father trained me to fight with many weapons. He wanted me to be able to take care of myself when he was not with me.”

Guy chuckled. “Yeah, a lady from the court of love can fight!”

Megan huffed in annoyance. “Should I be doing my embroidery instead of fighting, Guy?”

“Cool off your head and be ready.”

Guy ran towards the exit. As he moved, the pain from still-throbbing injuries on his back shot through him, and he steeled himself against all sensations. He looked into the corridor, peering into the semi-darkness and preparing to leave. But God was not on Guy’s side on that day: Blamire appeared on the opposite side of the corridor, assessing the situation, his dark eyes focused on Guy.

The dark-skinned man reacted immediately and rushed to Guy. He slammed his fist into Guy’s jaw, simultaneously giving a cry of alarm. “Guards! Guards!” he shouted. “The prisoner is escaping!”

“Damn you to hell, Blamire,” Guy said between clenched teeth.

“Oh my Lord,” Megan whispered to herself. She took a step back and stopped near the stone wall, feeling her heart beating wildly in her thorax. They failed to find the way out of the dungeons, and now Guy was going to pay for their endeavors.

Blamire punched Guy in the face again and hit him in the stomach. Blamire’s blows were so hard that Guy suddenly felt dazed and his vision became blurred. Guy tried to fight with the other man, but exhaustion caught up with him; moreover, in a physical fight, he was no match to Blamire in his weakened state. Soon Guy found himself shackled again, and then Blamire hustled him forward, pushing him towards a straw mattress.

Guy fell on his back and spewed a sequence of violent curses as the heavy door was shut and Blamire disappeared in the corridor. Defeated and deprived of a chance to flee, Guy had to fight hard against the urge to vomit. In misery more abject than any he had ever imagined, he felt panic sweep through him as he heard Blamire’s screams and then Isabella’s metallic voice.

The door flung open and Blamire appeared at the doorway. Already several torches and lanterns had been lit, and the stone wall glowed like a brazier. Then Isabella of Gisborne came forward, holding a torch in her hand and surveying the picture before her eyes.

Isabella eyed Guy; then her gaze stopped at the two unconscious guards. “Blamire, what is going on?”

“Lady Isabella, Gisborne tried to escape. I caught and detained him,” Blamire explained.

Isabella turned her gaze at Guy. “How could it happen?”

“Gisborne knocked out the guards. It seems that he had the plan to escape,” Blamire said.

“Guy, do you imagine that you are Robin Hood?” Isabella questioned scornfully, smiling wryly.

“I am not Robin Hood,” Guy answered coldly, not looking at Isabella. His eyes were tightly shut.

She laughed contemptuously. “And you will never be like Hood who could escape from any trap Vaisey set for him.” She strode forward and took a seat on the only chair in the cell, next to her brother’s mattress. “Lord Vaisey was right that you are an incompetent and blithering idiot.”

Isabella ordered to remove the bodies of two guards from the cell. Several guards came and dragged the unconscious men to the door, casting curious glances at Guy and Isabella. The guards who worked at the castle were surprised to discover the hostile nature of Guy’s relationship with his own sister. They didn’t understand why Isabella hated her brother so much that she didn’t even care about the brutal torture inflicted on Guy twice by Blamire and the Baron of Rotherham.

“Guy, I am giving you a final warning,” Isabella spoke seriously. “If you again try to escape, I will order to use a new torture device on you.” Then she turned around and motioned Blamire to leave.

A long, oppressive silence hung over the dungeons. Neither Megan nor Guy talked for a long time.

When that silence finally became too excruciating, Megan spoke. “I guess we can make another attempt.”

Guy pulled himself into a sitting position. “I told you before that there is no way out of here, Meg,” he said, speaking with great precision and considerable bitterness. “But I should have known in advance that we would be unable to escape at least because Blamire seems to be always around.”

“At least we tried,” she said with a sigh.

“But we failed.” Guy tossed his head contemptuously at the surrounding misery. He was happy that Megan couldn’t see his eyes that were embracing, condemning, loathing all the universe and himself most of all at that moment. “I am sorry that I failed to save you.”

Megan felt her heart skip a beat. Guy’s voice sounded so miserable and was so full of regret that his apology almost took her breath away for a moment. “It is not your fault, Guy.”

Guy laughed. “I did too many bad things in my life, and there were many moments when I wanted to die to be free.” He sighed tiredly. “I wanted to die so much in these dungeons before you appeared here.” He laughed again, this time mournfully. “It is funny that now I want to live to save you, but I can do nothing. Now I can only mourn for my soul.”

 “Are you mourning the loss of many chances to become a better man?”

“Yes, I am. You are shrewd, Meg.”

“Then you are a fool, Guy,” Megan said coolly, without a trace of sympathy. “It is impossible that everything is lost – something always remains.”

“And what do I have now?” He laughed bitterly. “Only misery!”

“Resignation and acceptance,” she replied. ”You accepted your faults and realized your mistakes. If you did try to change yourself but had not enough time to succeed, then your life is not misspent.”

“You think so?” he asked, astonished.

“Yes,” Megan assured him. “Now you can die in peace because you have changed and because you have kept your honor,” she supplied with conviction. “Once Queen Eleanor said that grief is not very different from illness: _in the impetus of its fire it doesn’t recognize lords, it doesn’t fear colleagues, it doesn’t respect or spare anyone, not even itself_.” She raised her voice. “Guy, do you see how much being aggrieved is similar to wallowing in self-pity?”

"Yes, I do see that,” Guy said.

“Then brace yourself and stop pitying yourself.”

Guy shut eyes and took a deep breath. “ _At least I can die in peace_.”

Megan and Guy didn’t talk anymore during that evening, each of them brooding over life and death, choices they had made and what they had lost in the process. It seemed that nothing could save them.

  

**Chapter 1**

**Grand Drama in Nottingham**

Robin of Locksley and his friends were waiting for a break in the foul weather during several long and mentally agonizing days. They hoped that the weather would improve so that they could sail from Calais to Dover and land in England in a few days. Every morning, Robin, Robert, and Carter came to the harbor and spent some time there, staring at the piers and the sea ravaged by heavy rains and violent winds. For days, the sky was the color of an intense thunderstorm, threatening and ominous. Time was passing, but the weather wasn’t changing, and every traveler was plunging into despair.

However, Robin, Robert, and Carter reached the limit of patience, for they had to thwart Prince John’s plans to usurp the throne of England when King Richard was most likely alive. The others knew that they urgently had to travel to England, and so they agreed that they couldn’t delay their departure anymore. The next morning, they boarded a small vessel and sailed from the harbor of Calais despite the sea looking as menacing as ever and hidden in a silvery fog.

Everyone found their shelter in their cabins, for wave after wave broke over the ship's decks. In an hour, a vast veil of dense fog was enveloping the ship, and it seemed that they were surrounded by clouds from all sides. The gray, cloudy sky showed that even if this storm subsided, another storm would come soon. The passengers were praying to God and especially to Saint Nicholas, the protector of sailors and travelers, as the journey to Dover continued.

It wasn’t raining in the late afternoon, but the sea wasn’t calm at all. Standing on the deck of the ship, Robin watched the distant shores of Flanders which were wrapped in the fog, while Archer conversed quietly with Carter and Robert, sharing with them stories about his incredible adventures which he had had during the years of his itinerant life in the East. Will and Djaq found solitude in their small cabin, their tight and warm embrace protecting them from the cold and the storm. Tuck was praying devotedly for having a safe sea voyage; he decided to keep a distance from the others, knowing that they wouldn’t be happy to see him near Robin Hood.

Robin had some time to ponder over the bizarre twists and turns in his life. Last time when he had been crossing the English Channel, he had dreamt of meeting Marian again after years of separation, even though he had been sure that she had married another man. After his return, he had found out that Marian had still been a maid, but then she had grown tired of waiting for the king’s return and had married Guy – that was the only plausible explanation of her decision to marry his former enemy.

Paradoxically, Robin was traveling across the Channel again, and this time Marian was again an unmarried woman, who, however, was betrothed to the Earl of Buckingham and was held hostage at Prince John’s court. But now everything was different: Robin was a married man, he had a son, and he loved his wife. Directed by the hand of God or influenced by a happy conjunction of planets, Robin had married Melisende Plantagenet, and he was happy in his marriage; he also loved his wife.

Melisende’s violet eyes, glowing with love and desire, as beautiful as iridescent silver when she looked at him, haunted Robin in his sleep. And Marian’s eyes of a rich blue color, like sapphires and like a blue sky, haunted him as well. He had no idea whom of these two great women he loved more.

“Not very busy, my intrepid hero?” an amicable voice came from behind Robin.

Robin turned around to face his friend. “No, no.”

Robert de Beaumont appeared on the deck and walked to Robin; he stopped a step from the other man. "How are you doing today? What are you thinking of? What is bothering you?”

Robin smiled faintly. A blaze erupted in his eyes, and, with a tender expression on his face, he confessed, “I was thinking of my son Richard. I didn’t want to leave him in Bordeaux so quickly.” That was not true, but it was better for Robert to think so, he mused.

“Richard,” Robert said gently. “It is a good name for a child.”

Robin’s expression changed into dreaminess. “I am glad that I married Melisende.”

Robert raised his brow, grinning widely. “So I was right that my little bird has finally surrendered to the entrancing charms of the most beautiful flame-haired lionet in the world.”

Robin laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Yes.”

“Very good.”

“Melisende will arrive in London a week before Prince John’s coronation,” Robin informed.

“And soon you will see Marian,” Robert remarked with undisguised uneasiness.

“I know.” Robin glanced away, at the foggy expanse of the sea.

“I hope it won’t destroy your life, my friend.”

Robin flitted his gaze to Robert, his expression suddenly perturbed. “Robert, I am still confused,” he whispered in a desolate voice. “I love Melisende, but I cannot forget Marian. I dream of my wife, and I miss her when she is not with me, but I remember Marian. I feel terribly guilty of being torn between them.”

“Your love story with Marian is heartbreaking.” Robert’s voice was tight with accusation. “She rejected your love twice. Do you still want to be with her?” He sounded somewhat amazed. “She caused you so much pain. She doesn’t deserve you.”

“No, I don’t want to be with Marian,” Robin asserted.

Robert sighed with relief. “Thanks be to God that Marian’s spell over you has finally fallen apart.”

Robin sighed, his usually pale cheeks flushing with color, which happened so rarely in the past months. “I don’t blame Marian for her decision to leave me and marry Gisborne. I understand her motives, and I really forgave her.” His heart thudded painfully, and he held his breath for a long moment. “But she trampled my heart, and there would be no third time for us.”

A frown of displeasure and worry creased Robert’s forehead. “Robin, Melisende loves you. She fell in love with you before your wedding, when she met you in the moonlit garden in Limassol.” His gaze flew to Robin’s face. “Don’t throw away your chance to be happy.”

All at once, Robin was awash in memories of being with Melisende and holding her in his arms. There was no doubt in his heart regarding his feelings for his wife. “I love Melisende,” he spelled out, his voice husky. “God, help me, but I love her so much.” His heart leaped at his own words, his eyes stinging with the sweetness of his admission, but there was much regret in his heart as well. “But I cannot say that I don’t love Marian, for part of my heart will belong to her forever.” Then he smiled brightly. “I wanted a fresh start, and Richard gave me a chance to have it; now I am content.”

Robert gave a wry smile. “I am happy for you, Robin.”

“When are you marrying, Robert?”

“Immediately after King Richard’s return,” Robert responded.

“Do you want to marry?” Robin gave his friend a questioning look.

“I am marrying out of duty to King Richard,” Robert responded honestly. “And my future wife is a young, beautiful lady, descending from a rich Norman family. What else should I wish?”

“You don’t love her,” Robin noted.

“You didn’t love Melisende either when you married her.”

Robin grinned. “But, I fell in love with her.”

“Maybe I will be able to forget the only woman I have ever truly loved.” Robert’s voice was rough with emotion. “This marriage might help me move on. The old demons are too strong to fight them off alone, and I am going to try to forget the sufferings she caused me.”

“I am glad that you are being so optimistic, Robert.”

They stared at each other in silence. Their minds floated to King Richard.

“The king was kidnapped,” Robert broke the silence.

“And there are only two men who could have done that,” Robin assumed in a grave voice.

“King Richard might have been captured by Duke Leopold V of Austria or by Henry VI, the Holy Roman Emperor,” Robert voiced his thoughts, running his eyes across his companions.

“But I think it is Duke Leopold’s fault.”

“Our intemperate sovereign was utterly wrong when he tore Leopold’s flag and trampled it with his feet. And he did something worse when he hired the Hashashin to assassinate Conrad de Montferrat.”

Robin felt a cold shiver running down his spine; he had always suspected that, but he had never received a verbal confirmation of the fact before. “Was it again André de Chauvigny who did the dirty work?”

Robert swallowed the bitter lump in his throat. “Richard asked André to arrange de Montferrat’s death. One of André’s knights contacted and hired the Hashashin. Then André disposed of that knight – he himself killed the man and buried him in the desert in an unmarked grave.” His gaze pierced Robin, his expression turned pained. “Thus, it was impossible to prove that Richard had been secretly entangled with the Hashashin, but several people, including Carter and me, know the truth.”

An ironic smile was hovering over Robin‘s lips. “Although I was in England at the time of the murder, I figured out the truth immediately upon the receipt of the news from Roger of Stoke.”

“Well, we also did some dirty work for Richard, but not as much as de Chauvigny.”

Duke Leopold of Austria hated Richard with ferocious hatred and suspected that Richard had arranged the murder of his cousin, Conrad de Montferrat. Although Robin had already returned to England by that time, he had easily understood the king’s involvement in de Montferrat’s murder, for he was well aware of how Richard had secretly assassinated some of Saladin’s leading generals – in the most conniving fashion. Robin himself had killed two of Saladin’s key generals at Richard’s behest.

In April 1192, the kingship of Jerusalem had been put to the vote, and the nobles of the kingdom of Jerusalem had unanimously elected Conrad de Montferrat to be their king. Then King Richard had sold Guy de Lusignan the lordship of Cyprus to compensate him for the loss of Jerusalem’s crown and deter him from returning to Poitou; de Lusignan’s family had long earned a disturbing reputation for their persistent rebelliousness, and the king didn’t need Guy back in the Angevin Empire. But Conrad had never been crowned the King of Jerusalem.

On his way home in the fortress of Tyre, Conrad de Montferrat had been attacked by two Hashshashin: they had stabbed him several times in his side and his back, and those wounds had been mortal. At that time, Lady Isabella of Jerusalem, the second wife of Conrad de Montferrat, had been pregnant with Conrad’s child; later she had married Count Henry de Champagne while still carrying her deceased husband’s baby. Conrad’s guards had killed one of their master’s attackers and had caught the other, who had been tortured and had claimed that King Richard was the mastermind of the plot.

“We did our duty to the king by liquidating those Saladin’s generals.” Robin shut his eyes, as if it could help him escape the toxic memories that blazed in his mind, stubbornly refusing to remain in the past. “Yet, it was not the right thing to do. I hated myself for murdering those two men in cold blood.”

Robert gazed away. “I agree with you: it was not the right thing to do, and I was ashamed of myself as well. But Richard protected us from many horrors, and I am grateful to him for that.” He sighed. “We were never involved in as many bloody secret missions as André was.”

“I cannot deny that.”

“Richard did many things incorrectly; you know what I mean.”

Robin’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent; Robert heard his deep sign before he went on. “Despite being sick with a recurrent fever, King Richard rose from his sickbed and fought valiantly to capture Acre in the last days of the siege. But when the city was in our hands, he began to behave downright foolishly; he was too intemperate and arrogant.” He paused for an instant, sighing frustratingly. “Richard argued with Philippe of France and Leopold of Austria. I can understand why Philippe became his adversary – Richard married Berengaria of Navarre instead of Alix of France; yet, I continuously fail to comprehend why our liege was so intemperate while dealing with Leopold.”

Robin and Robert exchanged troubled glances. They rarely criticized their liege, and if they did, they were frank only with each other.

Robert spew a colorful stream of curses out like a fountain; then he calmed down and spoke. “By seizing the treasures of Acre, Richard laid the ground for the break-up of his alliance with Philippe and Leopold. He also refused to share the conquered lands in the Crusader kingdom with anyone, as if he alone were responsible for the eventual surrender of Acre.” He let out a sigh of regret. “The French also helped capture Acre. Hugh of Burgundy was a competent military commander.”

“The biggest mistake was to offend Duke Leopold of Austria, the last surviving vassal of Emperor Barbarossa in the Holy Land. This act alienated many nobles of Outremer.”

“And look at what happened to our king,” Robert surmised with a grievous sigh.

Robin shook his head, focusing his attention on the surface of the water which he could barely see through the fog. “If the king was captured by Leopold, I am sure that he will hand Richard to the emperor. Then they will demand a huge ransom for him.” He sighed. “England will bleed to death when taxes will be increased again. The people will pay much, much more to raise our liege’s ransom than they have already paid to Prince John during the king’s absence.”

Robert nodded, looking pensive. “Perhaps, Prince John raised funds to pay for King Richard’s capture,” he speculated. “I often think of Amicia’s alarming messages about the huge taxes the prince collected.”

“You are right, I think.”

Robin couldn’t suppress the tremble that went through him; the fresh air was chilly, and the wind blew cold. He wrapped his cloak around himself more tightly to keep warmth. The mist was so thick and heavy that he could barely see Robert’s face.

In spite of the bad visibility, Robert guessed that his best friend was freezing. “We should go, Robin. It is very cold, and you are shivering like a small, hunted prey. You cannot catch a cold!”

Robin smiled cordially. “Don’t worry, Robert. I won’t die from the cold. England still needs me.”

“Our country needs me, too,” Robert retorted; he sounded somewhat offended.

“England needs us,” Robin amended, wrapping his arm around Robert’s back. “Let’s go to our cabin.”

It took the travelers about a few days to get to Dover. After they had disembarked, they headed directly to London to meet with Lady Amicia de Beaumont, Robert’s elder sister. Amicia informed them that Prince John had already signed Guy of Gisborne’s death warrant; she also shared with them the disturbing news of Lady Megan Bennet’s disappearance. Alarmed and possessed by deep apprehension, Robin and his companions departed to Nottingham on the same day, intending to stop Guy’s execution.

It was a rimy, damp morning in Nottingham when Robin and the others appeared in the Trip Inn and asked for a place at the most distant table that was hidden from the sight of other visitors. They arrived in the town only two hours before Guy’s execution and were able to devise only a hasty plan; they had no time to go to Sherwood and check whether Allan, Much, and John were there.

Tuck immediately left to Locksley at Robin’s request, whereas Robert went to the central square to gather intelligence about Guy’s execution. Each of them was hooded and behaved very unremarkably, trying to attract to them as little attention as possible. They even moved extremely cautiously, as if any wrong movement could open the ground and dredge them asunder.

Those, who remained in the tavern, ordered several cups of ale. Only Robin refused categorically, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to swallow even a small amount of low-quality English wine; he missed exclusive wines from the king’s collection.

“It is very cold,” Archer complained. “I begin to miss the Holy Land!”

“Archer, don’t whine,” Carter scolded.

Looking at his younger half-brother, Robin nodded and said, “It is really cold.”

The unusual-for-the-season cold aggravated Robin’s still fragile health; the scar on his abdomen was throbbing in pain, but he simply ignored all the uncomfortable sensations. Spring was slow in unfolding in Nottingham: during the past few weeks, there was steadily cold weather, with drizzling rains drenching everyone to the bone throughout the daytime. Yet, at times the sun shone brightly, but some nights were frosty when a cold wind sprang up and a drizzle began to fall again.

“Are you alright, Robin?” Djaq asked in a voice suffused with deep concern.

Robin gave a nod. “Yes.” He let out a sigh. “I am thinking only of our plan.”

Carter chuckled. “Not half a plan anymore?”

“Just for the heck of it, I will tell you that this plan is much better than all of my old half plans,” Robin quibbled, grinning under the folds of his hood.

“We are going to rescue Gisborne,” Will grumbled, displeased with the upcoming mission.

“And what?” Archer raised a quizzical brow.

Will frowned. “This man caused so much harm to us, and now we are going to save him.”

Robin wasn’t going to force anyone to participate in Guy’s salvation. “Will, you may leave.”

Carter was drinking his ale slowly. “Nobody goes anywhere – we are going to work together.”

“I won’t leave Robin and you,” Will pledged.

“I already know about the Saracen attack in the Holy Land,” Archer joined the conversation as he raised a cup of ale to his lips. “Was Robin ever wounded by Guy during his adventures in Sherwood?”

“Oh, that case with Gisborne!” Will hurriedly glanced away. “Better not to remember it.”

Robin tried to explain. “Djaq treated my wounds after I had been Gisborne’s… guest in the dungeons.” He sighed heavily. “Once Guy and his men captured me in the woods and took me to Nottingham. After I had been thrown in the dungeons, Guy wasn’t too gentle with me there.”

Draping his arm around Robin’s shoulders, Archer looked at Robin. "What did Guy do to you, Robin?”

A frown marred Robin’s forehead. “I was locked in the dungeons for several days. At that time, Guy and I were enemies, and he hated me wholeheartedly.” He paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate to speak at first; then he took a deep breath and went on. “Guy flogged me brutally and mercilessly. When the torture was over, I felt as if dogs had torn the skin of my back to shreds.”

“Guy is my brother, but I can say that the more I learn about him, the less I like him,” Archer said in a low voice, his face pale and his body trembling with wrath. “He seems to be a cruel man.”

Will emptied his cup of ale. “You are correct, Archer. Gisborne is a demon. He is–”

Robin cut Will off. “Will, you don’t know Guy of Gisborne well.” His voice faltered, and he fell silent for a brief moment. “I know that Guy seems a thorough-paced villain to all of you, and I think that it is difficult to imagine him a different man. Yet, there were days when he was a well-behaved and honest lad. He loved his mother, Lady Ghislaine, very much and took a good care of her during his father’s absence.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But after the day of the fire, our world turned to ash. Guy had to step on the wrong path in order to survive, and I do really pity him.”

“Maybe I don’t know something, but I don’t like Gisborne. I don’t believe that he can change – he will never become one of us,” Will voiced his judgment.

Robin pursed his lips slightly, but then he gave a nod – a sign of understanding. “I don’t like Gisborne either. And I don’t think that he will ever fight alongside us for freedom of England and the people.”

Archer gazed steadily into Robin’s eyes. Despite his brother’s words, he couldn’t find hatred in Robin’s orbs: instead, he was stunned to discover humanity there. “Robin, you don’t hate Guy, right?”

“ _I don’t hate Guy of Gisborne anymore_ ,” Robin avouched. “ _I pity him. I really do._ ” He became somber and contemplative. “There is too much bad blood between Guy and me, and we will never become friends.” His chest heaved with pain as his mind drifted back to the moment when he had been dying in Imuiz. “But I think that Gisborne deserves a chance to lead a normal life.”

Robin turned his head and caught Djaq’s sympathetic glance. The Saracen woman didn’t interpose in their conversation, but she was obviously listening to their chat attentively. Djaq nodded approvingly at Robin, pleased that her friend had expelled hatred for Gisborne from his heart, although it was now occupied with his powerful hatred for Vaisey, a feeling which was blacker and stronger than ever.

Archer smiled. “Well, you gave Guy such a chance when you asked the king to pardon him.”

Robin maintained an impassive expression, although inside his emotions were churning. He lowered his eyes, his head completely covered with the hood. He didn’t like that they had to take significant risks only to rescue Guy because they originally planned to postpone Robin’s public resurrection. But he couldn’t allow Isabella to execute Guy because saving him was the right thing to do. “Now we will have to take Guy out of the mess he dragged himself into after his failure to dispose of the sheriff.”

Carter raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Do you still think that Vaisey is alive?”

Robin inclined his head in confirmation. “ _I am convinced that this hellspawn is alive._ I feel this.”

They talked very quietly, and nobody was close enough to eavesdrop. The Trip Inn was buzzing with the news that today Guy of Gisborne would die. Everyone seemed to be excited to see Guy dead.

“Robin, you told us the story about your old conflict with Gisborne,” Djaq spoke at last. “Whatever happened on the day of the fire that consumed Gisborne’s parents and your father, your fault was limited by the fact that you let the bailiff chase away Gisborne and his sister.”

Robin turned his eyes to Djaq, his look turning incredulous. “You think so?”

“Yes, I do think so, Robin,” Djaq confirmed, looking Robin straight in the eye. “Gisborne set the fire at the manor, and the bailiff attempted to kill Gisborne’s parents and your father.” She paused for a moment, her eyes never leaving Robin’s face. “Robin, you acted not completely honorably on that day, but you were a child of barely seven years old.” She smirked. “And how old was Gisborne?”

“He was about fifteen,” Robin answered.

“Gisborne was almost a man, not a child, like you, Robin,” Djaq underscored. “And you said that the bailiff wanted the Gisborne lands and your lands as well. He would have killed you in any case.”

In Jerusalem, Robin had told Will and Djaq the story about his childhood and his conflict with Gisborne because he had needed to explain to them Archer’s existence; later he had retold the same story to Carter. Yet, only Djaq knew the truth about Robin’s true parentage because she had heard Robin rave about King Richard and Queen Eleanor in delirium.

“But I had to defend Isabella and him,” Robin persisted stubbornly.

“Robin, whatever you did on that night, Gisborne made his own choices – he chose to side with Vaisey,” Carter declared, endeavoring to conceal his own negative emotions, for he loathed Gisborne.

“Exactly,” Will interjected. “It was his own choice to kill innocent people, not yours.”

Archer and Robin stiffened, for they were aware that Malcolm hadn’t died in the fire.

"Listen, Robin," Archer said in a silken voice as he finished his cup of ale. “It is not the first time when you contemplate your old conflict with Guy. And now, when you aided Guy to receive a royal pardon, I don’t think that you should give way to gnawing feelings of guilt and sorrow.” He chuckled. “After all, you, Robin, are not a man who likes suffering. You are an optimist by nature.”

Robin nodded. “Yeah, I am not a man who whimpers and curses in solitude, resigning to my own misfortunes and hoping that God will reward me in Heaven for my resignation. I never lose a single precious moment – a man who immediately acts and responds to blows of fate without prevarications.”

“Robin and Archer are both men of action,” Djaq opined. “Guy of Gisborne is Archer’s brother, but he is much more passive and weaker than you, Archer and Robin.”

"Straight to the point, Djaq,” Robin said in a voice, in which one could feel laughter.

A Cheshire-cat smile came across Archer’s features. "Well, I agree, too.”

“It seems that Archer is someone between Robin and Gisborne,” Djaq concluded. “But, of course, there is not as much cruelty in Archer as in Gisborne.”

Archer liked listening to the conversations about Robin, Guy, and himself. He didn’t know Guy well and he didn’t loathe him, but he deeply regretted that he had dreamt of killing Robin Hood.

They stopped when they saw Robert de Beaumont enter the inn and walk towards their table. Like each of them, Robert was disguised and hooded, and he was carrying a small bag that contained another disguise which they would use today. A hooded Tuck was walking right behind Robert.

 “Everything is ready. We may go now,” Robert notified.

Robin stood up, looking at his friend. “Were you able to get the disguise?”

Amusement flickered in Robert’s eyes, and then he laughed. “When did I fail to have my way, Robin?”

The hero of the poor and oppressed chuckled. “Almost never, my friend.”

Robert nudged Robin's shoulder with his own. He elaborated, “The tailor was very willing to help and very welcoming when he saw your tag. I had to wait for some time while the man rummaged from room to room, tossing pieces of clothing and fabrics in haste. Then he found what he needed and quickly fit it to my size.”

Robin smiled marginally and began to walk away.  “Then we are indeed ready.”

The others rose to their feet and ambled towards the exit; Carter paid for the ale they had ordered and then hastened to join his friends. Visitors of the tavern didn’t pay attention to the group of hooded strangers as they were too busy discussing Guy’s execution. Nobody knew that Robin Hood had just walked out of the tavern and was about to begin the greatest performance Nottingham had ever seen.

§§§

Lady Isabella of Gisborne, the Sheriff of Nottingham, stood near one of the windows in the study, looking outside, at the central square of Nottingham. She shivered in the bleak rays of early spring sun that filtered through the undraped windows. She could see the scaffold that had been built for her brother, Guy of Gisborne, and Lady Megan Bennet; their execution was scheduled for today.

Yesterday, Isabella had received a strict order from Prince John to execute Guy because Lady Marian of Knighton, the former Lady Gisborne, had tried to escape from the Tower of London, but she had been caught and placed under a heavier guard. Although the prince had initially intended to arrange some kind of eccentric execution for Guy on the day of his coronation in London, he had changed his mind due to the Earl of Buckingham’s demands. The prince owed Buckingham for King Richard’s capture and was willing to do everything to please his favorite, who was besotted by Marian.

Isabella wasn’t as happy with Guy’s execution as she had once thought she would be. After Guy’s last torture performed by the Baron of Rotherham, Guy had barely survived and didn’t recover from his sickness yet. Lade Megan Bennet had taken good care of him, and only thanks to her Guy hadn’t died; today Megan was also supposed to be executed. The prospect of seeing Guy and Megan dead didn’t instill even some gladness into her aching heart – instead, horror clutched it.

“Lady Isabella, we should hurry to watch the show,” the Baron of Rotherham said with inspiration.

Isabella turned around, her steel blue eyes locking with Rotherham’s gray orbs. She began to despise the man after she had witnessed Guy’s inhuman torture several weeks ago. She hoped that Rotherham would leave soon, but he continued staying in the castle, entertaining Isabella in the provincial town, as he called Nottingham sarcastically. The baron had confided in her that he was still in Nottingham due to Megan’s imprisonment, hoping to persuade the woman to marry him. But Isabella suspected that Prince John didn’t trust her completely, and so he needed Rotherham to spy on Isabella.

“Yes, Lord Rotherham, we should go,” Isabella agreed with a fake smile.

Isabella walked to the table, stopped, and grabbed the sealed parchment which she had written last night; it was the verdict of the high court of Nottingham. A twinge of guilt passed through her, for she would have to command to end her brother’s life. But Guy was doomed because Prince John wanted him dead. She struggled with many troubling thoughts since yesterday’s evening when John’s page had arrived from London with the prince’s order to carry out her brother’s execution.

Rotherham sniggered. “What a marvelous execution we will have today!” he drawled, every word dripping with poison and warped delight. “Guy of Gisborne and Megan Bennet became lovebirds while she nursed him back to health after my last beating, which you, my lady, didn’t allow me to finish.”

“I didn’t let you finish because you almost killed Guy. He still is weak to even walk to the scaffold,” Isabella explained, ignoring his scowl. She flung a fine wool cloak around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“Megan didn’t want to be my wife, and today she will pay with her life,” Rotherham said, with regret creeping in his voice. “I hoped so much that she would change her mind, but she didn’t.” He made a helpless gesture. “What a feather-brained and stubborn woman! She could have everything, but she refused to marry me!” He smiled somewhat dreamily. “And I have such a wonderful feeling for her!”

Isabella frowned. “Yes, that was foolish of her. I am awfully sorry that she rejected you, my lord!"

Meanwhile, Guy and Megan were waiting for the guards in Megan’s cell in the underground dungeons. With a gloating smile on his face, the Baron of Rotherham had informed them yesterday that Prince John had commanded to execute them as high traitors. Since the fateful announcement, they were quiet and devoted their time to life contemplation. As Guy was still unhealthy, he lay quietly on his straw mattress, weak and vulnerable; Megan still tended to the healing welts and cuts on his back.

In the eyes of death, Guy was afraid that he would go to hell in the afterlife. All was lost in his life, for he was unable to save Marian from Buckingham and Megan from death. He was afraid of dying despite all his assurances that he didn’t care about himself and that it was good to end his empty life, but when he looked at Megan and thought of her courage, an unfamiliar audacious feeling burned inside him, giving him strength to go forward and appear before the bloodthirsty crowds of people who hated him.

Guy was unable to change anything in his life, and he was totally resigned to his death. But at least he wouldn’t face death alone, but later they wouldn’t walk along the same road to the gates of paradise.

“We are really going to die today?” Megan asked in a shaking voice.

Guy sighed deeply. “I am sorry, Meg. We are doomed to die.”

Megan’s deep blue eyes were large and full of fear. “I am scared.”

Guy averted his gaze, and his heart constricted in his chest. “When it comes, it will be very quick.”

“Do you need anything else?” she inquired. “Maybe I can give you some water or food. We still have one loaf of bread.”

Guy lay on the mattress, looking up at her. He flashed a warm smile, pleased to have such a wonderful creature by his side, with the only regret that they would die together. During their imprisonment, they had become as close as only good and old friends could be. Guy had already told her many private things about himself: he had given her a long tale about his childhood in Nottinghamshire, the fire at Gisborne Manor, the banishment from Locksley and Nottingham, and the years of his service to Vaisey.

Guy liked that Megan was always ready to listen to him without mental reservation, without suspicion, without accusing him of doing something wrong. When he talked to her, he felt the freedom that he often lacked in his conversations with Marian, who always compared him with Robin Hood and who wanted him to become himself and yet develop some qualities which she loved in Robin – his heroism and his self-sacrificing and altruistic nature, which he had never possessed. With Megan everything was different: Guy was himself with her, and there was no comparison to anyone else.

“Meg, I need nothing. You have done more than enough. Thank you,” he whispered. “Don’t be afraid of death. It will be not as painful as you think.”

Megan went still, very still. Her heart was no longer bleeding – she had already accepted her upcoming death, and she was content with her fate. She was pleased that she would die together with Guy.

“What would you do if you are granted a chance to live?” Her question was blunt and rather surprised her, for she didn’t know why she had asked it.

“I would have said my thanks to God because only he can save us,” he replied unhesitatingly.

“And Lady Marian?”

“Then I would have done everything to rescue Marian, find my friends, and save the king. But we don’t stand a chance against Isabella and Rotherham.” Most of all Guy wanted to live because he craved redemption. He started his redemption in Acre, but he knew that he could do much more.

In the Holy Land, Guy had freed himself from the darkest demons that had tormented him since the day of the fire. He no longer blamed himself for the tragic death of his parents, and he no longer hated Robin. He had broken from Vaisey and had killed him, and he felt that the atonement for his sins had already begun. Guy’s refusal to kill Richard in Imuiz, his desperate attempt to save Robin only to be stopped by Isabella’s arrow, Robin’s noble request to grant Guy the king’s pardon, the mind-blowing revelations made by King Richard, and Vaisey’s murder by him were the turning points in his life; all those things pushed Guy to accept his own faults and step on the path to redemption.

The sheer darkness, in which Guy had lived in for many years, dissipated, and he found the light. God inflicted on him a great deal of tribulation in his life, and Marian’s love helped him become a free man. Marian pushed him to redemption, but she wasn’t his redemption: she was his savior, as well as Robin who had granted Guy a chance for atonement, but eventually Guy himself had become his own savior, which made him a free man.

Megan shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I want to do something… unusual.”

Guy awkwardly rose to his feet. He stood next to her, looking at her with interest. “What do you want to do, Meg? Is it something that will astonish me more than I am already feeling in your presence?”

She let out a small laugh. “You will see now.”

She smiled with a slow, striking smile and closed her eyes. And then she began to sing the song which Queen Eleanor loved a lot. She also loved this song and often hummed it under her breath.

_De proez'e de joi fui,_

_Mais ara partem ambedui,_

_Et ieu irai m'en a Cellui_

_On tut peccador troban fi._

Guy was staring at Megan, amazed. He understood the Occitan language rather well, although he couldn’t speak it as well as Megan could. What amazed him more was Megan’s ability to stay so calm in the minutes preceding their execution; he admired her ability to control herself.

It wasn’t difficult for Guy to translate the verse. _“I held both prowess and joy, but now both have departed, and I shall go to Him in whom all sinners find their end.”_

_Mout ai estat cuendes e gais,_

_Mas Nostre Seigner no.l vol mais;_

_Ar non puesc plus soffrir lo fais_

_Tant soi aprochatz de la fi._

Guy watched Megan singing, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her expression almost serene despite of the fact that they were going to die. _“I have been charming and gay, but our Lord no longer wills it; and I can no longer bear the burden, so near do I approach the end,” he translated for himself._

The young cultured lady was bathing in a sea of artistic melodies and bittersweet words of the song, in which a knight, deprived of joy by pitiless fate, was ready to give up everything in his life and was reconciled to his death. As she was singing, Megan’s features slowly morphed into an unholy mixture of merriment and agony, and Guy’s heart nearly collapsed in his chest at the thought that such a young and beautiful creature was prepared to die and he was powerless to save her.

_Tot ai guerpit cant amar sueill:_

_Cavalaria et orgueill_

_E pos Dieu platz, tot o acueill,_

_E El que.m reteigna ab Si._

Guy thought that the song was exactly about him and Megan, although he had never had chivalry, in contrast to the knight from the song. _“I have given up all I loved so much: chivalry and pride; and since it pleases God, I accept it all, that he may keep me by Him.”_

As she finished the verse, Megan opened her eyes and stared steadily into Guy’s. There was the same resignation in Guy’s unfathomable eyes which she would have seen in hers if she looked at herself in the mirror. Megan felt anguish gripping her heart again as she continued singing about life, death, and sacrifices and about the knight’s sadness stemming from the necessity to leave his beloved and die. The song was so much about Guy and her at that very moment: they were about to depart from the world which they may have made better if they were allowed to live their natural lifespan, and, most importantly, they would never see again everything and everyone they loved.

_Totz mos amics prec a la mort,_

_Qu.il vengan tuit e m'onren fort,_

_Qu'eu ai agut joi e deport_

_Loing e pres et e mon aizi._

_Aissi guerpisc joi e deport,_

_E vair e gris e sembeli._

Keeping her eyes closed, she went on singing two more verses, one long and one short. _“I enjoin my friends, upon my death, all to come and do me great honor, since I have held joy and delight far and near, and in my abode. Thus I give up joy and delight, and squirrel and grey and sable furs.”_

When the last verse was over and Megan stopped singing, her gaze was still locked with Guy’s. They didn’t speak for a long time, their mouths twisted with the colossal effort it was taking them to hold back their bubbling emotions. Megan swore that she wouldn’t weep, but she suddenly found herself unable to control herself: tears shimmered on her lashes and rolled down her cheeks.

Guy sighed heavily. His heart was overwhelmed with grief that Megan was destined to die with him, but he was grateful to God that he wouldn’t be alone in the last moments of his life. He stood silent and somber, gazing into Megan’s eyes, his mind was full of with doleful memories of the past.

Guy said at last, “I think I know this song.”

Megan smiled with a tremulous smile, her eyes brimming with tears. “It is Queen Eleanor’s favorite song. She often sings it, usually in the saddest moments of her life. It is the song written by William IX, Duke of Aquitaine; he was the queen’s grandfather.”

“I guessed that he should be the author.” Guy rubbed his hands over his face. “Duke William was a well-known troubadour. He is a godfather of courtly love.”

“You are right. Duke William wrote this song when he returned from the First Crusade in 1101,” she confirmed, a look of surprise appearing on her face; she didn’t expect that Guy was so knowledgeable about the Aquitanian culture and the art of troubadours. Then her face darkened. “The Count of Poitiers was a fine knight at arms, liberal in life and active in seducing women and philandering, and he was a great composer and singer of songs. But he was excommunicated by the pope.”

“If I am not mistaken, he was excommunicated twice: the first time for an alleged infringement of the Church’s tax privileges and the second time for abducting Viscountess Dangerose, the wife of his vassal Aimery de Rochefoucauld, Viscount de Châtellerault, although she was a willing party.”

Megan cocked her head. “You know the history of Aquitaine very well.”

“Well, I had good teachers, whom my mother hired for me when we still lived in Locksley.”

“Queen Eleanor likes this song because she, too, gave up all she loved so much: chivalry and pride and her normal life when King Henry imprisoned her after the unsuccessful revolt of hers and her sons, and she accepted her fate because it pleased God, as she confided in me once.”

Guy gave a nod. “This song is about the Queen Mother’s life.”

Megan smiled as her mind drifted back to the days of her early youth in Aquitaine. “Sir Robin of Locksley also sang this song many years ago, before the whole court. I was very young, but I attended that feast.” She smiled fondly. “He was mischievous and charming, and he had a great sense of humor! He was full of life, fire, and energy! His cheerful and passionate spirit and generosity were contagious!” She lowered her head. “And today Sir Robin might have saved us if he were alive.”

“But Robin is gone forever,” Guy said sorrowfully. “And soon you, Meg, will meet him in Heaven.” He released a mournful sigh. “Tell Robin that… I avenged his death by murdering Vaisey.”

Tears were shining in her eyes. “You yourself will tell Sir Robin this. You and I will be in Heaven soon.”

A long silence stretched between them, which seemed to be lengthening into a lifetime.

Guy didn’t speak, and Megan found some solace in silence. In that perfect silence, all their sorrows, sufferings, doubts, pains, and everything else fled when an angel of death came to enter their souls. They felt that they couldn’t free themselves from the unwavering grasp of death, but they didn’t wish to – they welcomed death and opened their hearts to God.

Breathless, Guy glanced into Megan’s eyes as he brushed away a strand of hair from her brow. “I have damned myself, and I will burn in hellfire forever. You will go to Heaven without me.”

To his own surprise, she attracted Guy physically, and he swallowed tensely and cursed himself, for he felt that even now, in the prison, he was greatly affected by Megan’s beauty and sincerity, even though he was certain that he would have never fulfilled the painfully mystifying lust he felt for her if they survived. He prohibited himself from feeling anything towards Megan, but he could not bring himself to look away, for she was a dazzling, captivating undertow of desire, and he was under her spell.

Guy saw the seductive lines of Megan’s well-curved body under the folds of her cloak. Megan was one of the most beautiful women whom he had ever met; her beauty could easily rival that Marian’s. Only Melisende Plantagenet was more beautiful, more seductive, and more enigmatic than Megan and Marian, but there was deeply hidden ruthlessness in Robin’s wife, which were the features which Megan didn’t possess, for Megan’s heart was pure and innocent; but Melisende had the Plantagenet blood in her veins, and she was destined to be different from all other noblewomen.

“After what you survived here, you will go to Heaven as well,” she assured him. “Don’t doubt that.”

Guy shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, Megan. You know that I committed heinous crimes, but you sound like Marian who often said to me that there was some good in me and I could be absolved.”

Megan stepped aside from Guy. She didn’t take his last words well – she didn’t want to be compared with Marian or anyone else. She moved farther away from him, and he stared at her with a look of surprise on his face, not understanding why she put so much distance between them.

“Ah, I see,” she breathed.

Guy frowned slightly, feeling emotion blending with a nausea that was already pummeling his gut. “Meg, what did I do wrong? What–?” He broke off when he saw her shake her head sadly at him.

“It is nothing, Guy. Nothing.”

“Did I hurt you?” He took a step towards her.

As their eyes met, Guy tried to look into the depths of her soul, yearning to see something there, an angry fire or a spark of life, but there was only melancholy in her eyes.

“Guy, I want to tell you something,” she whispered, feeling afraid to say the words that threatened to slip from her tongue in the past few days. “ _No matter what else happens to us, my heart is yours_.”

Megan lowered her head, shameful longing for him surging through her. She understood that she loved him when he had been dying. She had never loved another man, never ever in her life, and now she knew what true and deep love was like. She loved Guy for who he was and could ever be. But he didn’t love her back, for she was sure that his heart belonged to the famous Lady Marian. Nevertheless, Guy’s feelings for Marian and for Megan didn’t matter anymore, for they were too close to death.

Her frank words sent an aching stab through Guy. “Meg?” he called.

Megan trembled all over, but the sound of him uttering her name in such a husky and amazement-drenched voice, so uncertain, so filled with concern, shook her from her numbness. She lifted her eyes and glanced into his orbs, full of amazement and astonishment and vulnerability. Looking at him, she let herself unleash a rush of love she felt for him, and through the shadow of sadness, her eyes shone with deep and passionate light. She choked back a sob, brushing away her tears with the back of her palm, but the new flood of fresh tears slid down her cheeks; her tears seemed to flow without end.

Megan smiled ever so slightly, tilting her head to one side. “Guy, it is alright. I know that Lady Marian is the keeper of your heart, and I accept that.”

A long, flustered silence spread over them as Guy tried to grasp the meaning of her confession. It was difficult to believe that such a woman as Megan – independent, willful, spirited, and extremely proud – had just said that to him, but he knew that it wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“It is so complicated, Meg. I… know nothing for certain about my feelings,” Guy responded sincerely. “I loved Marian for so long, and there is a certain part of my heart – a large part of it – which will always love her, but I have been feeling so lost since my return from Acre.” He paused and glanced down for a short moment, biting his bottom lip, before lifting his face and staring at Megan. “You don’t know me well, Meg. So many things happened after Robin’s death; they changed our lives forever and broke Marian, me, and many other people…”

“I don’t know what you mean, but I can say that you have really changed.”

Guy walked over to Megan and stopped near her. He touched her chin with his hand, using his fingertips to tilt her face gently up to him to better see her eyes. “Thank you for everything you have done for me, Meg. You are a wonderful and extraordinary woman!”

Her heart thundered in her chest as she instinctively leaned closer to him. He slid his hands down her back, stopping at the level of her waist. For a moment, just for a moment, they were only Megan and Guy, and nothing else mattered as they stood so close, looking at each other without speaking, letting strange sensations engulf them. And then Megan backed away.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back at her. She was careening between feeling intensely vulnerable and totally flustered, thinking that she shouldn’t have allowed him to touch her, but she justified her relaxed behavior because of their impending death. Guy himself felt guilty for his inability to give her any kind of warmer comfort other than a smile, which she rightfully deserved. But nothing mattered before death – only the fact that they took some friendly comfort in each other’s company.

§§§

The heavy door flung open. Isabella and Blamire walked in the cell. Isabella’s expression was impassive, but her eyes were not as cold as usual. Blamire stood behind her, and there was a large smirk playing in the corners of his mouth.

Isabella crossed the cell and stopped near Guy’s mattress. “It is almost time to go,” she declared.

Guy directed his gaze at Isabella, his eyes pleading. “Isabella, you can still spare Meg’s life,” he said, watching surprise flashing across his sister’s face.

“Oh, my goodness! Guy, you and she have bonded. You are more than jailbirds!” Isabella retorted with a waspish smile. “You know, I pity Megan because she is a fool. She could have already been married to the Baron of Rotherham, but she preferred to stay here and chose her own fate – death.”

“We are just two innocents in the dungeons, Lady Isabella,” Megan intervened; her voice sounded unusually light. “I definitely prefer Guy’s company over Rotherham’s.”

Isabella glared at the other woman. “Guy is far from innocent.”

“He didn’t kill Robin Hood,” Megan raised the issue.

“I know,” the lady sheriff replied matter-of-factly. “As for you, Meg, I can only say that you wouldn’t have been as unhappy with Lord Rotherham as I was with Squire Thornton. Your chances to be happy with Rotherham are much better than mine were with Thornton.”

“It is better to die than to marry a moron,” Megan growled.

Blamire was silent, watching the unfolding scene with the same evil smirk on his lips.

Isabella gave an audible sigh. “At times I think so.”

Guy was going to do something absolutely unexpected. “Was your husband really so cruel to you, Bella?” he asked in a tender tone; he addressed her as he had often done in their childhood.

For an instant, Isabella stood looking at her brother. She was touched by his soft voice and the manner in which he spoke to her. But then her expression regained harshness. “There is nobody worse than my husband, the man whom you sold me for money.”

“You will never forgive me, Bella?” Guy spoke in the same soft voice and used the same endearment.

Isabella steeled herself against any good emotion towards Guy. “It doesn’t matter, Guy.” She released a heavy sigh. “It no longer matters.”

Not giving Guy a chance to say anything else, Isabella advanced forward and walked to the door, her gait straight and proud. She nodded at Blamire that she was ready to go.

Bowing to her, Blamire opened the door, and Isabella swept out of the cell, stepping into the dark corridor. As she was walked down the corridor that led to the ground level, she felt a single tear sliding down her cheek. She lowered her head as she quickened her pace, walking towards the front door that separated the underground prison from the other castle dungeons. Yet, she was affected by her meeting with Guy, but she would never show her weakness to the man who was guilty of her misery.

In a few minutes, Isabella returned to Guy’s cell in the Baron of Rotherham’s company. She entered and stopped in the middle, scrutinizing Guy and Megan in turn. Rotherham paused at the doorway, his face twisted in grim satisfaction; he was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Megan and Guy stiffened at the sight of the two people who had caused them so much pain.

“The day of your death has come, Gisborne,” Rotherham announced after a prolonged silence. “Will you not admit that you are a weakling and a loser?”

“Shut up, you beast!” Megan climbed to her feet and stared at him with the challenge in her eyes.

“What a fiery temper!” Rotherham exclaimed, looking at the lady with desire evident in his eyes.

Guy scrambled to his feet from his mattress. He leveled his stare at the baron, dull and tired of the pain and uncertainty gnawing inside him. “You can do anything you want to me, and you can also say anything, Rotherham.” He lifted his brow at him in a mocking way. “I am long past caring.”

The Baron of Rotherham blanched more than ever. “Very well, Gisborne. You die today and pay for our crimes.” His gaze slid to Megan. “My dear, have you changed your mind? Will you marry me? I still can save your life and plead with Prince John to grant you a royal pardon.”

Megan couldn’t tolerate the baron’s conceited insolence anymore and roared, “Damn you, Rotherham!” She lowered her voice then, feeling too devastated to shout. “Haven’t you understood yet that I loathe and hate you? You are not a man – you are worse than an animal. I won’t marry you!”

Rotherham cursed rudely and then supplied through gritted teeth, “I will take great pleasure in watching you die together with Gisborne, Lady Megan.”

Isabella was silent, her eyes darting between Guy and Megan. She noticed how weak and sick Guy looked: he was not the dashing man whom she had met in Nottingham before their voyage to the Holy Land almost a year ago. Guy was dressed in his old brown cloak and black trousers; apparently, he had lost much weight, and he was also unkempt, for they didn’t have time even to invite a barber to make him look more presentable for his own execution. His appearance was not that of a cool-blooded murderer, and Isabella realized that the people would be shocked to see the defeated Guy.

Gisborne glanced at his sister; he had to try again to persuade Isabella to spare Megan. “Isabella, you want me dead and I accept that. But you can save Meg! She is just an innocent girl!”

Isabella was unrelenting. “It is Prince John’s order. I can do nothing.”

“This treacherous lady has a heart that is colder than a night in the desert,” Megan gave her verdict, throwing at Isabella a scornful look. “She can only sleep with Prince John in exchange for power.”

Isabella froze, startled by Megan’s offensive speech. She began to walk towards the younger woman on impulse, but stopped herself. Anger simmered in her blood, and pity evaporated. “Lady Megan, you could live, but your foolishness precluded you from accepting Lord Rotherham’s gracious proposal. If you think that your remarks have some entertainment value, you are under a delusion.”

Rotherham was savoring the moment of Guy and Meg’s agony. “They both will die in shame today.”

“Guards! Guards! Guards!” Isabella bellowed, repeating the word thrice as if it had magical, coercive powers. “Take Lady Megan and my brother out. Gag them before escorting them to the scaffold.”

Megan looked at Isabella with disdain, understanding why the lady sheriff had ordered to gag them: she feared that Megan would announce King Richard’s capture in Austria. She heard Guy growl behind her, and her heart started beating furiously in her chest; she turned to face him and saw the guards shackle him. Observing Guy struggle with two guards, Megan let go a string of curses and insults directed at Isabella and Rotherham. However, she couldn’t scream anymore as in the next moment another guard approached her and gagged her; then she was shackled.

In half an hour, Isabella of Gisborne and the Baron of Rotherham were already on the front steps of the castle. Isabella lounged in a high-back oversized chair, Vaisey’s former chair; she was at the peak of her fame and power, enjoying that she was known as Prince John’s mistress and occupied the office of Sheriff of Nottingham. His expression haughty and sneering, yet his face frighteningly pale, Rotherham stood at her right. Blamire stood at Isabella’s left, ready to cater to her every whim.

They swept their eyes across the square and gasped for air, for they didn’t expect that so many people would come to the execution despite the rainy and cold weather. For almost everyone, Guy’s execution was a long-awaited and dramatic event. Many well-dressed nobles, idle townspeople, and a lot of ragged peasants came to the central courtyard to watch the execution of Vaisey’s former right-hand man. The people wore menacing and pleased expressions, for everyone hated Guy after Prince John’s sensational announcement that he had killed Robin Hood.

Isabella stood up and raised her hand for silence. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to her carefully planned speech. “The people of Nottingham, today we have gathered here to oversee the execution of two dangerous criminals – Sir Guy Crispin Fitzcorbet of Gisborne and Lady Megan Christine Bennet of Attenborough,” she proclaimed, sweeping her eyes over the crowd. “Blamire, bring out the prisoners.”

Blamire bowed submissively. “As you command, Lady Isabella.”

The drums beat, and the front doors of the castle opened. The guards pushed forward Guy of Gisborne and Megan who was trailing behind him. However, in contrast to Guy’s expectations, the mob didn’t taunt him and laugh at him as everyone was shocked to realize that the miserable prisoner, who was abnormally thin, ghostly pale, and dressed in rags, was Vaisey’s drop-dead, handsome, and murderous master-at-arms, who had terrorized and oppressed the populace for more than five years.

Guy, Megan, and their enemies couldn’t know that Robin, Carter, Archer, and Tuck were in the crowd, each of them hooded and keeping a distance from prying eyes. A tide of shock and awe spread out through them at the sight of the changes in Guy. Robin gripped the hilt of his Saracen scimitar more tightly and drew it out of the scabbard, but Carter tugged him on his sleeve, signaling to sheathe the weapon. But Robin was almost petrified with shock, and for some time he couldn’t move and speak even when Carter grasped him by the shoulders and began to shake him slightly.

“Robin,” Carter called as he shook his friend again. “Take a hold of yourself. Otherwise, we will fail.”

Robin finally emerged from the trance and blinked. “But we won’t fail, right?”

“No, we won’t,” Archer promised, staring at Guy who stumbled on the way to the scaffold and was pushed forward by the snickering guard.

“It is a pure luck that Amicia managed to learn the date of their execution,” Robin opined quietly. “And we are fortunate to find Lady Megan in Nottingham, for I feared that she might be already dead. We will have to save the two of them.” He swallowed hard. “I am shocked with what they did to Gisborne.”

Archer laughed tragically, which was a low, throaty sound. “Guy looks like a man who was tortured for days and starved almost to death.” He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Isabella is a bitch.”

Robin coughed nervously. “She is worse than a bitch.”

Guy could barely move his legs as the guards led Megan and him to the block; all he wished at that very moment was to be sequestered away from the masses or die on the spot. The people surveyed him with unconcealed interest, stunned to see the man, who had taken last pennies from them and had chopped off their hands, in such a miserable state. Some people mocked him, but the majority of them unexpectedly took pity on the villain, giving him ambiguous, pitiful glances.

Isabella ran her eyes over the crowd, smiling at the people; yet, she wasn’t happy, for she also pitied her brother. “As you all know, Guy of Gisborne is an enemy of the people. He must pay the ultimate penalty for his crimes,” she continued her accusing speech. She unfolded the parchment and began to read a long list of charges against Guy. “Gisborne is guilty of multiple murders, including the murder of Sir Robin Fitzooth of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and Count de Bordeaux and the murder of Sheriff Peter Vaisey of Nottingham,” she delivered in a monotonous manner.

Suddenly, they heard the angry shouts of the old man, who was hastily trotting through the crowd. Megan gasped as her gaze fell on her father, Lord Hugh Bennet of Attenborough.

Hugh Bennet stopped near the front steps and directed a truculent glare at Isabella. “Lady Isabella of Gisborne, what did my daughter do to you? Why are you executing her?”

A lethal hush fell over the crowd. All eyes were attached to Isabella.   

Guy swung his gaze to Megan, feeling the first inklings of hope. But in a moment, that hope was smashed to pieces as Isabella smiled venomously.

Isabella gave Hugh a condescending glare. “Lord Hugh, your daughter was declared a high traitor by Prince John. She must pay for her treacherous actions. She tried to help Gisborne escape from the dungeons. Therefore, she must share his fate.” Her lips stretched in a spiteful smile, for she was pleased that they had come up with a believable charge against Megan. “In the future, if anyone challenges my authority, they will suffer the same punishment.”

“My daughter is not a traitor!” Hugh screamed in rage. Nothing could ease the pounding anger flowing through him. “She has never betrayed King Richard and England!”

Isabella was stunned for a moment. Everything seemed to slow to a maddening, surreal pace as she oscillated her gaze to Megan and Guy. She stared at Guy, wide-eyed, her mouth twisted in confusion, but then she gathered her wits and gave her brother a farewell smile and the last gaze of hatred.

The lady sheriff turned her gaze at Hugh Bennet. “Lady Megan is a traitor,” she insisted.

“It is a wretched lie,” the desperate man protested.

The Baron of Rotherham stared at Hugh Bennet. “Lord Hugh, I hereby confirm, with a heavy heart, that Lady Megan was convicted of treason and condemned to death,” he intervened, speaking in a high and official tone, but his face reminded the twisted leering of a devilish hypocrite – he was reveling in the emotional torment of Megan’s father. “It is a duty of all loyal and honest subjects to place under arrest and execute those who committed an act of high treason. Justice must be served!”

“You both are traitors,” Hugh’s shrilling voice soared in the cold air. He strode forward, but the guards held him back. “You are criminals, not my daughter!”

Rotherham laughed menacingly. “We also have two more prisoners for today’s execution.” He snapped his fingers, looking at Blamire. “Bring out the other prisoners.”

Blamire bowed and said, “One moment, Lord Rotherham.”

“This is excellent and sweet! We will have a splendorous spectacle today!” Rotherham said in singsong tones that resembled Vaisey’s manner of delivering his theatrical speeches so much.

A deadly silence stretched out as the baron stopped talking. Everyone looked at the two other people who were sentenced to death as well. The peasants gasped as the guards extruded Rebecca of Locksley and her daughter, Kate of Locksley, out of the castle and to the front steps; the nobles didn’t react because they didn’t know the prisoners.

Yesterday, Kate had been discovered by Blamire in the strong room in the castle, where she had tried to steal money which Prince John had refused to pay as a reward for Guy’s capture. After Kate had been incarcerated, at Rotherham’s suggestion, Isabella had ordered the guards to apprehend Rebecca, so that they could execute the potters together, making an example out of them and showing everyone what sort of punishment thieves would suffer in the shire. Isabella allowed one of the female peasants to take little Maggie, Rebecca’s youngest daughter, to her household.

Rebecca and Kate looked panic-stricken. Their faces were red, their eyes overflowing with tears; they had been crying during the whole night after Blamire had told them that they would be executed tomorrow. Like Guy and Megan, they had been sentenced to a noble method of execution – beheading. Blamire had told them that they should be immensely grateful and honored that they wouldn’t be hanged, for hanging, not beheading by an axe or a sword, was a usual punishment for peasants.

“You have no right to execute us!” Rebecca of Locksley screamed, trying to wrench out of the grip of the guard who hit her and sniggered at her unsuccessful attempts. But the woman persisted and cried out, “Release me! Release us!”

“Release us! We have done nothing wrong!” Kate shrieked, tears streaming down her cheeks. In an attempt to subdue her, the guard slapped her hard across her cheek.

“We cannot be executed!” Rebecca cried out desperately. “Robin Hood stole from the sheriff many times over, and now he is remembered as a noble hero! We are not worse than Hood!”

Guy and Megan were already standing on the scaffold, watching the scene in startled awe.

Guy’s eyes locked with Kate’s, and he distinguished fear in her red-rimmed eyes that were swollen from hours of crying. He wondered whether Kate felt guilty of betraying him to Prince John, and somehow he saw in her scared gaze that she was feeling that way. Guy despised Kate, but he felt a lump forming in his throat at the sight of the terrified Kate and Rebecca. As he looked around, a thought occurred to him that he would have begged Isabella to spare their lives, if he wasn’t gagged.

“Damn,” Robin cursed. “We have a problem. We have four people to save.”

“Looks like Isabella is going to have them all executed,” Carter assumed.

Archer let out a distressed sigh. “I am more than shocked.”

“Tuck, are you ready?” Robin inquired, looking at the Hospitaller and hoping that he could trust him.

Tuck nodded. “I am always ready, Sir Robin.”

Robin smiled, relieved. “Very well then.”

“Are Will, Djaq, and Robert ready?” Carter asked.

Robin looked away and stared at the prisoners on the scaffold. “Yes, they are. I hope that Allan, Much, and John won’t come here because they can ruin other plans.”

§§§

Robin and his friends couldn’t fantasize that Allan and Little John would make a great mess out of their plan. Yet, Robin felt a knot of anxiety forming in his stomach as a feeling of bad foreboding was creeping into every part of him. He prayed that they would be able to save the four prisoners.

The hooded man stood in the crowd, looking at a shackled Guy with steel-hearted satisfaction. He would have killed Guy by his own hands, brutally torturing him until the man would have sobbed and beseeched for mercy, and now he believed that beheading was too merciful a punishment for what Guy had allegedly done to his Robin. He had been searching for Guy for many weeks in the daytime, hiding in Sherwood in the night. And when he had suddenly overheard the conversation of two peasants in Locksley about Guy’s execution, he had nearly run to Nottingham. Malcolm of Locksley coveted to avenge Robin’s death and wanted Guy dead, and today he would witness his sworn foe’s execution.

Kate and Rebecca were led to the front steps and forced to their knees.

Blamire handed Isabella the parchment, which she unfolded and began to read; it was about the charges leveled against the potters.

Isabella started reading, holding the parchment up with both hands. “I, Lady Isabella of Gisborne, the Sheriff of Nottingham, hereby declare Rebecca and Kate of Locksley guilty of theft. They are sentenced to death through beheading despite their low social standing. The sentence cannot be commuted to imprisonment and must be carried out as soon as possible.”

“Lady Isabella, please don’t execute us!” Rebecca implored. “My daughter made a mistake, but she is young and dim-witted! Please pardon her! Take only my life!”

Isabella shook her head in denial. “No, your appeal cannot be considered.” She smiled maliciously. “If someone is caught stealing something from my coffers, they will suffer capital punishment as well.”

Many people began to shake their heads disapprovingly. The picture was really a heart-shredding one, and Isabella’s heartlessness didn’t earn her popularity among the town folks.

Hidden in the crowd, Robin breathed in deeply, looking between Carter, Archer, and Tuck. “Isabella reminds me of her brother and of what I saw when I returned to Nottingham.”

“Isabella is out of her mind,” Archer asserted. “She is even crueler than I thought.”

A dark smile flirted over Robin’s lips, and a look of pure disdain flashed across his face, fortunately under his hood. “She complies with John’s orders. She will do everything to accumulate more power.”

“And this is my sister,” Archer managed to murmur through the tightness in his throat.

Rebecca was shaking in anger and fear. She started sobbing and couldn't speak for a minute; then she beseeched, “Lady Isabella, please, I beg you not to execute us!” She swallowed her sobs. “Robin Hood was a thief, but he was pardoned and is mourned by everyone in the town!”

“Robin Hood’s case was different,” Isabella pinpointed; she truly regretted Robin’s death.

Kate’s eyes welled with tears. “Mother, don’t you see that it is in vain? She will kill us!”

Rotherham laughed. “Four people are dying today. It is good when Prince John’s law is enforced.”

Isabella’s face was sharp with contempt at the sight of Rotherham’s gloating face; suddenly, she felt miserable in spite of having power and wealth. Her gaze flickered to Guy. “In the name of King Richard I of England, I, Lady Isabella Gisborne, the Sheriff of Nottingham, hereby proclaim the judgment pronounced by Prince John and the court of law against Guy of Gisborne and Megan of Attenborough to be good and right. All possible appeals against the verdict will be viewed as groundless.”

“Gisborne is the murderer of Robin Hood!” Malcolm cried out from the crowd. He didn’t care about anyone among the prisoners, for his judgment was clouded by his grief over Robin’s death. “He must pay for the murder of Robin of Locksley! He killed Lord Robin who saved the king and sacrificed his life for England, for all of us!” He raised his voice. “Gisborne’s soul is irredeemable!”

Malcolm’s cries elicited the fulminous and violent response from the angry people. Only one thing could pacify their anger – the sight of Guy’s severed head on the block.

“The murderer of Robin Hood!” the people in the crowd echoed.

“Die like a dog and rot in hell!”

“He killed Robin Hood!”

“He murdered our hero!”

“He deserves to die!”

“Burn in hell, you damned murderer!”

Robin was tossing his head, looking around and searching for the hooded man amidst the sea of the people. As soon as he heard Malcolm’s voice, he remembered it from childhood. He knew that his father was there, and that filled his heart with apprehension.

Archer glanced at Robin. “Brother, your death had a tremendous effect on the people.”

Robin didn’t hear Archer’s words; his heart was hammering to suffocation. “Archer, our father is here.”

“What?” Archer’s eyes widened.

Robin leaned closer to his half-brother. His hood shadowed his face. “I remember his voice very well,” he whispered into Archer’s ear. “He is somewhere in the crowd.”

There was a sigh from Archer before he spoke. “Really?”

“Yes,” Robin confirmed. “He thinks that Guy murdered me and came here to watch him die.”

Archer scowled and gritted his teeth. A surge of intense anger swept through him at the thought of Malcolm, and the ferocity of his temper was inappeasable. “He came here to gloat, damn him.”

Suddenly, a shriek ripped through the crowd, and the people began to shift, jostling each other to make way for a young blonde-haired man running toward the block. The newcomer held a longbow in his hands and targeted Isabella. Behind this man, a giant stood, shouting at him and persuading him to stop; he had a large wooden staff in his hands. The two men were Allan and John who had come to Nottingham as soon as they had learned about Guy’s execution.

“Guy of Gisborne is innocent! All the accusations against him are false!” Allan made a mind-blowing declaration as he stopped near the front steps. He aimed at Isabella’s chest. “He didn’t murder Robin Hood! Sheriff Vaisey killed Robin! I was in Acre and watched Robin draw his last breath!”

The announcement drew a gasp of shock from the crowd, and a dumbfounded silence followed.

Little John was exceedingly impressed by Allan’s valiant attempt to save Gisborne, and that gave him the courage to act. “Guy of Gisborne didn’t kill Robin – Vaisey did that! Prince John lied when he accused Gisborne of Robin’s murder!” he proclaimed, standing at Allan’s right. “Gisborne destroyed Vaisey, the man who tormented the populace for so many years!”

Looking at Isabella, Allan felt that he had probably never been as full of bitterness, anger, and hatred as he was at the moment. After Robin’s death in Acre, Prince John’s proclamation, and Guy’s capture, days of impotent rage had burned under his skin until the moment when he had learned about today’s execution, and now he couldn’t keep silent anymore – he needed to speak about the tragedies and injustices which he had witnessed and failed to prevent.

“Lady Isabella, you are being unfair to both Robin and Guy,” Allan promulgated, narrowing his eyes at Isabella. “Robin honorably sacrificed his life to save King Richard! I loved Robin, and he was a great man! His death was the most underserved one!” His voice was a message which was full of anguish, pain, and sorrow. “But Gisborne didn’t take Robin’s life – he tried to save the king and he himself was seriously wounded by you, Lady Isabella! Because of you, Robin was tricked by Vaisey and was killed by this monster. You are guilty of Robin’s death as much as Vaisey was!” He raised his voice so that it rang out adamantly in the courtyard. “You must be ashamed of what you did to Robin Hood: you not only helped Vaisey murder him, but you also tarnish his memory by executing Guy as his murderer!”

“Blatant and brazen lies!” Isabella disavowed the accusation.

Isabella rose from her chair. She blanched and shut her eyes again, clenching her small fist to still the trembling of her hands. She recognized Allan at first glance, for she had seen him in the castle before and she had also been tied up to the poles in the desert with him. And she could see in his eyes the arctic determination to kill her; she could sense his bloodlust in the air. Mortal terror filled her heart.

Guy surveyed Allan and John, his heart pounding in delight. He was so pleased that there was someone who stood up for him, especially Allan whom he grew to love as a friend; he was also astonished that John supported Allan. Despite being gagged, Guy gasped for air, his heart beating faster.

Robin regarded Allan and John with a look of amazement. He closed his eyes against the memory of his own death in Imuiz, for it seemed unnatural when the people spoke about it when he was alive. He opened his eyes and stared at Allan and John, wondering where Much was. Then an aching feeling of anxiety began to burgeon inside of him as a thought entered his mind – they were ruining his plan.

“What the devil does that mean?” Carter growled. “They are not helping us.”

Robin sighed. “Allan likes Guy. They befriended one another when he was Gisborne’s right-hand man,” he explained, his mouth twisting into a grimace. “And now they might foil our plan.”

Archer grabbed one of Robin’s hands and implored him, “We cannot leave Guy! Please don’t do this!”

Robin managed a morale-boosting smile for Archer and released his hand from the other man’s hold. “We will proceed with our initial plan, though with some corrections,” he pledged as he backed away slightly. He looked around, scanning the area carefully. “I wonder where Much is.”

“Looks like Much is not here,” Carter opined.

The Baron of Rotherham advanced forward, but then he stopped, his instinct of self-preservation preventing him from approaching Allan. “You are a criminal if you are defending Gisborne,” he gave his verdict. “Stop and offer a public apology! Put your weapon down and admit your guilt!”

Taking a few steps along with Little John, Allan uttered a cry of rage and trepidation. Then he said in a wrathful voice, “I am not a criminal! I was pardoned by King Richard! And Guy was pardoned as well!” He gripped his longbow tightly, for his hands were shaking. “Lady Isabella, I am gonna warn you only one more time. If you don’t release Guy of Gisborne and the three women, I will shoot you.”

Isabella wanted to intimidate Allan. “You have just sentenced yourself to death, Allan-a-dale.”

Allan didn’t take into account Isabella’s threat. “Release them, Lady Isabella! Or I swear you will die.”

Malcolm couldn’t wait any longer. There was nobody who could sway him from the decision he had already made. Anger flared up in his blood; he prepared his old Saracen bow and stepped in the direction of the scaffold, but then he paused.

Lord Hung Bennet extricated from the guards’ hold and advanced forward, stopping on the front steps. “Grab your weapons and stand against the sheriff!” he addressed the people. “Robin Hood stood up against tyranny three years ago, and he protected us while he was fighting for our freedom in the woods.” He crossed himself. “But Sir Robin is dead, God bless his gentle soul! Now we are alone with tyrants, but we can still defend ourselves!”

Megan’s heart was beating so fast that it was almost bursting out of her thorax. She feared the outcome of the day for her dear father, and as her eyes met Guy’s, she saw the same horror in them.

“Let’s change our lives! We must be as honorable and brave as Lord Huntingdon was! Let’s free ourselves from pure evil!” Hung continued, aggressively gesticulating. “We must unite our forces and settle scores with traitors – Lady Isabella of Gisborne and Lord Rotherham! They are traitors to England and King Richard! They are–” He broke off, before bending over, coughing, and trying to catch his breath. “They did something bad to King Richard who disappeared on the way from Acre!”

Isabella nodded at Blamire, who then barked orders to the guards. In the next moment, an arrow whizzed in the air, catching Hugh unawares and piercing his thigh. And then another arrow flew and struck Hugh in his chest; it pierced him straight through his lungs. The unfortunate freedom fighter fell to the ground, two wooden shafts protruding out of his chest and his thigh.

Megan saw her father fall, but she could do nothing to save him. She kept staring at her father’s prone form, feeling her face heat up, and her eyes were misty with tears. A wave of sobs washed over her, shaking her with violent tremors. Guy looked at her with deep sympathy and affection. But they were held by the guards, and he couldn’t reach out for her to comfort her.

Meanwhile, Malcolm took a step forward, making the people around him part the way as they stared at him, an unknown man armed with a bow. The danger was emanating from every inch of Malcolm’s body, and the fact that he was completely hooded made the people give screams of fear.

Malcolm drew back the bowstring, ready to nock an arrow. “You are an idiot if you want to stop the execution!” His menacing voice boomed in the air. “He murdered Robin Hood! He killed… the savior… of King Richard, England, and the people!” His voice was cracking, and emotions of pain mingled with anger overwhelmed him. Grief and anguish swelled to a torrent inside of him, stinging his eyes and turning each breath into a raspy sob. “He took Lord Robin’s life! He killed our hero! Our savior! He murdered–” His last words slurred. He wanted to say “my son” and stopped himself.

“Guy didn’t take Robin’s life,” Allan affirmed. He didn’t see Malcolm, but he felt that he was targeted, for he registered John’s terrified gaze; he knew that the man who spoke to him stood behind him.

“Don’t attack so far,” Isabella instructed.

The crowd was deathly silent. Every pair of eyes was on the desperate hooded man.

Robin and Archer shared shocked glances; Robin whispered something to Carter and Tuck, and then he left them because he had to get to Malcolm before it was too late. Guy also saw Malcolm and shuddered, subconsciously feeling that he knew the man who threatened Allan.

A tide of black rage rushed through Malcolm, and a thick angry fog began to penetrate his pain-clouded mind. Pieces of the false reality that Robin had died at Guy’s hand came together in his head to guide him, and he was seized with bloodlust. An arrow flew a deadly course and struck Allan in the back.

Allan gave a howl of pain and tumbled to the pavement. Malcolm wanted to fire several more arrows, but someone grabbed him, wrested the bow from him, and dragged him forcibly to the ground.

“Allan! Allan!” John screamed in a horror-stricken voice, his heart thundering in his chest.

John rushed to his friend and crouched, his eyes focusing on Allan who lay with his face down, on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back.

Allan moved, but the pain in his back was so strong that it precluded him from moving again. He remained motionless, pain evident in every tense line of his body. “I am not being funny, but… it hurts so much,” he said in a pained whisper. “Damn the man who wounded me!”

John sighed with relief that Allan was alive. “You are alive! Thanks be to God!”

“Blamire, arrest them! They are outlaws!” Isabella shouted. “Arrest them!”

At Blamire’s command, several guards rushed to Allan and John. They surrounded them, intending to take them to the dungeons. At the sight of the arrow in Allan’s back, they shared confused glances.

John withdrew the arrow from Allan’s body, and the injured man cried out in pain. “You will be alright. You won’t die,” he crooned. Then he gazed at the guards. “Don’t you see that he is seriously wounded? You cannot take us to the dungeons! He needs a doctor!”

At the same time, Malcolm of Locksley was experiencing the shock of his whole life: he was looking into the pale blue eyes of his presumably-dead son Robin, who almost lay atop of him with after he had thrown himself at his father to stave off the disaster – to prevent the man from shooting another arrow at Allan or Guy. Malcolm needed only an instant to recognize his grown-up son.

Robin blew out an exasperated breath, his eyes blazing with angry fire. “I have never dreamt that this meeting will happen under such dire circumstances,” he articulated between clenched teeth. “Aren’t you happy to see your own son?” A wealth of contradictory emotions coursed through him – shock, amazement, excitement, rage, contempt, resentment, and at last hatred.

Malcolm shuddered, spasms rippling through him as his body reacted to the shock of meeting with a very-much-alive Robin, but more to his son’s hateful tone and gaze. “Robin… Robin…” he muttered.

Robin adroitly got to his feet. “Now stand up!” he said in a hissing tone. “And don’t even try to do something outrageous… like you just did.”

Malcolm obeyed and leaped to his feet, not expecting his son to give him a hand. “They said that you had died,” he murmured, his mind going numb from shock.

Robin shifted the hood on Malcolm’s head, so that he could see the older man’s face. He stared into his father’s eyes. “I died, and yet I am alive,” he spoke in a softer voice. “Vaisey stabbed me, not Gisborne.”

Malcolm’s eyes were full of disbelief and shock. “Not Gisborne…”

Robin gave a nod. “Exactly.”

“But… but…” Malcolm lowered his head, fearing that someone in the crowd would see his scarred face.

“Enough,” Robin snapped as he wrapped his arms around the old man’s waist, his eyes searching for Archer around. “Now you will leave, and we will talk later.”

They stood in the crowd of the people, who parted to let the two hooded men walk away from the front steps. Isabella shouted commands to arrest the hooded man who had shot Allan, but they blended with the crowd and were able to cover their tracks well.

“What about you, Robin?” Malcolm’s voice was overwrought and quavering.

Robin’s gaze wandered to the scaffold where Guy and Megan stood. “I have some deals here.”

All the color drained from Malcolm’s face as he realized what his son was planning. “You cannot save Gisborne. You cannot risk your life for this murderous thug,” he said in a fearful voice.

“Be quiet!” Robin turned his father to himself, seizing him by the throat and shaking him like a doll, rudely and unconcerned about the pain his hands were inflicting on the exposed skin of Malcolm’s throat. “You wounded Allan, one of my men; maybe you even killed him. I stopped you in time.” His eyes glowed reproachfully. “What were you thinking?”

Malcolm’s heart was full of guilt. “Robin, you are entitled to objurgate me, but I beg you to understand me. I was sure that Gisborne… had killed you, and I wanted him dead.” He placed his hands on Robin’s shoulders, ignoring that Robin had treated him without dignity and respect just a moment ago. “And this young blonde man… was about to ruin the day.”

“You were zealous to neutralize the threat – Allan – because his actions could result in the cancellation of the execution,” Robin finished for him. He released Malcolm, feeling remorse for being so cruel to his father. But it wasn’t time to display his remorse. “You were wrong.” He folded his arms over his chest, and his features were clad in an iron curtain of contempt. “You have done so many wrong things.”

Malcolm was unable to look at Robin and averted his eyes. “You hate me, don’t you?”

Robin had no answer to this question. “I don’t know.”

They continued walking as Robin didn’t want to give his father a chance to do anything else. Malcolm was looking around, guessing where they were going, but he didn’t dare ask Robin anything.

Malcolm and Robin left the central courtyard and turned around the corner, where they stopped near one of the buildings. There were fewer people there, but a handful of men, who were there, eyed the two hooded men with suspicion and terror in their eyes.

In a few moments, Archer emerged from around the corner of a nearby building. Robin nodded at his half-brother, signaling that he had found their father.

Archer stopped next to his relatives. “Is it him?”

Robin gave a nod. “Yes, Archer. Take him from here, please. He should wait for us in the empty lane between the bakery and the local whorehouse.”

Archer blinked in surprise. “And you, Robin?” He shook his head. “I cannot leave you.”

Malcolm could only stare at his second son in shock; he recognized him in a split second. “Archer? Archer?” His voice was barely a whisper. “You?”

Archer laughed gibingly. “Aren’t you happy to see your two sons together?”

Pink color stained Malcolm’s cheeks and, slanting Robin and Archer two swift glances, he thanked God that his offspring had somehow found each other. “But… how is that possible?”

“Long story,” Robin croaked. “Archer, take him away. I should go now.”

Malcolm inhaled and exhaled soundly, focusing on finding the right words. “Gisborne is not worthy of the kindness you extend to him, but I can do nothing to stop you. Go, both of you, and be careful.” He sighed wearily. “I will be waiting for you in the forest, in the abandoned cottage near the old mill, in the western part of Sherwood, beyond the inner circle. Come there after you complete your mission.”

Archer and Robin exchanged uneasy glances, not knowing whether to believe Malcolm or not. Then Robin nodded wordlessly, motioning Archer to go, and Archer nodded back in agreement.

Malcolm watched the two young men walk off, his heart pounding harder. He didn’t know how to face his two sons, who would surely come to him soon and would demand explanations. His attack on Allan was a horrid mistake, but he was blinded by the thirst for revenge and couldn’t think straight. And yet, happiness blossomed in his heart because Robin, his beloved son, was alive, and it was the best gift he could ever have; despite all his fears and many uncertainties in his life, he was happy.

§§§

Robin and Archer vanished in the throng, looking for Carter and Tuck, who patiently waited for them in the opposite part of the square. They both were seething with anger that Malcolm had interfered and had injured Allan. However, some good came out of the grungy situation – Malcolm’s actions had delayed the execution, giving Robin and Archer enough time to find Carter and Tuck.

Robin stopped as he spotted Carter and Tuck. “We have to alter our plan,” he declared.

“What do you want to do?” Archer asked worriedly.

“Do you have a new half-a-plan?” Carted laughed.

Robin chuckled. “This time, I have a whole plan.” He veered his gaze to Tuck. “Tuck, I need you to do something very risky. We have to make a performance, and you will be in the limelight.”

Robin and his friends started the dialogue about changes of their initial plan. Tuck nodded twice during the debate, being entirely supportive of Robin’s plan, but Archer and Carter were unnerved and shook their heads disapprovingly.

“We have no other options,” Robin objected. “Everything has changed for the worse: Allan is wounded, and we have more people to save. We have to risk and improvise.”

Robin instructed Tuck to go to the center of the courtyard, and the friar obeyed without any question. As they stalked into the heart of the crowd, moving closer to the scaffold, Robin looked concentrated and unperturbed, but the others weren’t so composed. Then they parted their ways: Tuck kept walking towards the scaffold, while Robin, Carter, and Archer headed to the battlements.

“The Nightwatchman! It is him!” Isabella cried out.

“Ten guards, get him! After him!” Blamire shouted. He decided to send a small group of the guards after the Nightwatchman while others would guard the prisoners and protect Isabella and Rotherham.

The guards and everyone stared at the battlements where a male figure of average height, wearing the Nightwatchman’s costume, appeared. He stood unmoving near the battlements, surveying the square. There was an English sword sheathed in a silver scabbard that hung at the Nightwatchman’s waist.

Guy was shocked to the core. His frantic eyes were darting between Allan on the ground and the Nightwatchman. He felt his heartbeat quickening as he studied the Nightwatchman closely. He knew that this time, it wasn’t Marian because she couldn’t be there. He found himself so confused that he understood absolutely nothing. Megan was shaking her head, feeling helpless and lost.

As a sea of guards launched an assault on the Nightwatchman, the masked hero swung around and ran rapidly from the central square, disappearing in a maze of the narrow streets and lanes.

Guy watched the Nightwatchman move, and a thought pervaded his mind that the hero was a man, not a woman. The question was who he was and why he appeared there before the execution. Guy’s mind was racing through possible explanations, but he arrived at the dead end.

Determined to prevent a disorder from spreading and escalating in the courtyard, Isabella turned to Blamire. “Silence! Silence!” her voice thundered. She waited until hush fell over the crowd before she resumed speaking. “Proceed with the execution!”

The guards pushed Megan and Gisborne down, on their knees, and the prisoners were positioned behind large stumps with wide notches cut out for their heads.

Kate and Rebecca were dragged to the scaffold by the guards as well. Then Isabella announced that the potters would be executed after Megan and Guy.

“Proceed with the execution,” Isabella repeated her command.

Standing behind the lady sheriff, the Baron of Rotherham let out a sigh of frustration. “Oh, I pity Lady Megan. She is so beautiful and so young to die, but she brought this death upon herself.”

In the crowd, Robin observed two executioners take their axes. His temper was quickly rising, and a furious, foaming rage simmered in his blood. He loathed Isabella for her treachery in Acre, but today he was almost berserk with rage. Now the depth of his rage was different – his anger was as jagged and sharp and dangerous as broken ice, for Isabella had crossed the line of his tolerance.

“I wonder why Gisborne and Lady Megan are gagged,” Robin mused aloud. “If Isabella is going to execute them with gagged mouths, then there is something she fears they can say aloud.”

“They definitely know something interesting,” Archer agreed.

“Perhaps, even about the king,” Carter volunteered an opinion.

Robin shrugged. “Maybe.”

Carter eyed Robin with alarm. “Robin, are you really going to do this?”

“Yes, I am. There is important work to be done,” Robin replied in a steady voice. “The Nightwatchman provided us with distraction, for Isabella sent many guards to pursue him. Will and Djaq will provide another distraction, and Tuck is ready.” He chuckled. “And then I will save the day.”

Archer inwardly sighed. “Are you sure, Robin?”

“Yes. No more questions please,” Robin said dismissively.

The audience was silent as the execution no longer excited anyone.

Allan and Little John were still near the front steps, surrounded by six guards. John’s staff had been taken away, and now his hands were shackled. Allan lay motionless on the steps, moaning in pain, his eyes shut, and there was a pool of blood beneath his body.

“Wait!” Tuck shouted so loudly that everyone immediately turned to him. Looking at Isabella, he spoke in a calm and confident voice. “These people cannot be executed when they are gagged. They are in a need of last prayer, Lady Isabella! We must be merciful no matter how great their crimes are.”

Isabella frowned and narrowed his eyes as she rested them on Tuck, who stood right near the scaffold. “Who are you and what do you want? Are you a preacher?”

“I am Brother Tuck,” Tuck introduced himself. “It is sinful to offer no chance of absolution.”

The people in the crowd nodded. The picture of Guy and Megan standing on their knees on the scaffold was so heartrending that some of them dared voice their agreement with Tuck; they were also puzzled why Guy and Megan were gagged. At the same time, Robin smiled slyly under his hood, his heart pumping and his blood boiling with excitement in anticipation of the grand drama ahead.

Isabella heard the people’s whisperings. “Fine. You have my permission to have a short prayer, but they will remain gagged,” she conceded after a long moment of hesitation.

Tuck blessed himself with the cross and then began to pray. “ _Da, quaesumus Dominus, ut in hora mortis nostrae Sacramentis refecti et culpis omnibus expiati In sinum misericordiae tuae laeti…_ ”

Rotherham looked displeased. “Always the same, these monks.”

“That's enough of the piety,” Isabella snarled, her hands balled into fists at her side. “No amount of prayer words can cleanse their blackened souls. Their sins cannot be absolved.”

“Wait! In the name of God, wait!” Tuck protested, glancing defiantly towards the lady sheriff. “What are you doing? Lady Isabella, you and Prince John, your master and lover, will be punished for executing these four innocent people!” He ignored Blamire's shouts and continued his well-rehearsed speech. “They are innocent! You cannot execute them! You cannot kill them!”

Guy and Megan stared in startled awe at Tuck, their hearts thumping harder and harder. Something was clearly going to happen, and they began to experience the stirrings of hope.

"What?" Isabella yelled as she jumped to her feet and made a step forward. “You have no right to defy Prince John and me!” Her gaze flipped to Blamire. “Arrest this monk!”

“Capture this monk!” Blamire ordered to one of the guards, who dared not disobey and stalked towards Tuck, who hustled to mingle with the crowd and was out of their sight.

“Where is this man? Where is he?” Isabella inquired, bewildered.

“What is going on?” the Baron of Rotherham said, irritated.

In a split second, Tuck again appeared near the scaffold and outstretched his arms. “Soon God will speak. The skies will darken, and the sun will disappear.”

All at once, everything went dark, and a deathlike hush reigned in the courtyard. With every second, it was getting darker and darker, and soon the sun was shaded by the large black ball as the moon stood in a direct line between the Earth and the sun. The chaos, great and profound, ruled by the panicking and frightened people during those minutes; cries and screams of horror rang in the air.

"There, it is happening," Tuck spoke again, his hands still outstretched. “Have faith! For soon a new day will dawn, and you will be saved! Darkness will be gone, and light will come to the world!”

“What is happening? What is it?” Isabella questioned, obviously frightened.

Blank terror gripped Rotherham. “What on earth is going on?”

“What is it? Is it the devil coming?” Kate of Locksley cried out, staring up, at the sky.

“It is the devil’s doing!” Rebecca of Locksley murmured, her gaze fixed on her daughter’s shocked face.

Megan and Guy lifted their eyes to the sky, both astounded and surprised, like everyone else. Their haphazard guess was that it might have been a solar eclipse, for they both were well-educated people and were aware of such strange things happening from time to time on earth. But there was something mystical in the fact that the moon entirely blocked out the sun moments before their beheading.

“The sun emerges again like England's protector,” Tuck’s voice coursed through the air. “Everything is changing! For, out of this darkness, a legend will rise! Hope will be re-born! A new dawn is coming! The sun will rise again over England, over every town and village!” He turned to the battlements, waiting for Robin to appear there as they had agreed. “ _England’s greatest hero is coming back!_ His journey is complete! He steps into the light, and he will save you! He has returned! The legend is alive!"

All at once, the slender male figure emerged near the battlements. The man was dressed in trousers and a doublet of dark green color, and he also wore a green velvet cloak; his head was hooded. He was holding a Saracen recurved bow in his hands, aiming at Isabella of Gisborne; a curved Saracen scimitar, sheathed in a golden scabbard, hung at his waist.

Guy shuddered, uneasily aware that in some definable way the newcomer reminded him of Robin. He stared at the hooded man in green clothing, trying to figure out what was happening. He saw so much strong resemblance to Robin in this man that he thought he was hallucinating. Robin Hood was dead – he had died in Imuiz, and it couldn’t be him. But then who was the man? The picture before his eyes shocked him, raising numerous questions within him, and the need to know the answers battled with the equal hope that he wouldn’t die today, that he would be saved by this mysterious man.

"It cannot be true,” John prattled. “He is dead.”

“What is going on?” Allan groaned. He couldn’t see the enigmatic man in green, for he still lay on the steps, writhing in pain from the wound.

The people in the crowd stood frozen in a state of dazed shock, everyone staring at the hooded man. Shaking her head in shock, Isabella threw her hands up in despair and landed onto her chair.

Robin made a mocking bow. “I have missed all of you so much,” he began in a high voice.

Guy blinked as if that could fix his slightly blurred vision. His pulse raced, and blood pounded in his head. Dread overmastered him, and his expression evolved into sheer disbelief and then into utter shock. He knew that male voice – he could recognize it even among a thousand more voices.

There was a shocked silence in the central square, and all eyes riveted on the hooded Robin.

Robin flung off his hood and tossed his sandy-haired head, his gorgeous mane billowing in the wind. He smiled cheekily and turned to Isabella, and, as he locked his gaze with hers, his pale blue eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. In a moment, Robin turned away from her and looked at the people – his people, whom he had fed and protected in the darkest days of Nottingham’s history. He grinned widely, pleased with the effect his appearance had on everyone.

Robin pulled back the bowstring and shot two arrows, which pinned Isabella to the chair, where she was sitting. He fired another arrow that embedded itself near the Baron of Rotherham’s feet, and then two more arrows whizzed in an inch from both sides of Blamire’s head.

Isabella looked up at the sun, shielding her eyes with her hand. Then she glanced back at Robin, who stood silhouetted against the sun. “No, he cannot be here,” she murmured.

“Vaisey boasted that he had killed him.” Baron of Rotherham took several steps back.

Grinning mischievously, Robin laughed outright. “I am so glad that so many people have come to Nottingham today. I see that I was missed in England while I was away,” he promulgated with a note of laughter in his voice. “I am Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon! I am Robin Hood!”

John smiled gleefully, shaking his head in disbelief. “Robin…” He crouched and leaned over Allan, whispering, “Robin… is alive, Allan. He has come to rescue us.”

But Allan didn’t hear him. He had already passed out from the blood loss and pain.

Isabella shook her head. “No, it is impossible!”

“He cannot be alive! And yet he is…” Rotherham was struggling to accept the truth as well He shook his head, and an incredulous look draped across his features. “Surprise, surprise…”

“Have you missed me, Lady Isabella?” Robin addressed the villainess in a chilly tone of unmasked derision. “We haven’t seen each other for so long!” He shot another arrow that flew in an inch from Isabella’s ear. He was now staring fixedly at the woman who one of the main perpetrators of his tragic demise in Imuiz. “Lady Isabella, I remember the day when you conspired with Sheriff Vaisey in Acre and attempted regicide on King Richard’s life!” A smile was gone from his face, and his expression changed into harshness. “I will remember this day until the day of my real death.”

“No, no, no,” Isabella muttered. Her head was swimming, and she felt nauseated, as if she might throw up. She couldn’t comprehend how Robin could be alive.

Holding his bow in his right hand, Robin pointed his left hand at Isabella. The moon shone like a dark angel over his shoulder. “The people of Nottingham, you were fed with lies for so long, but I will tell you the truth about the events in Acre.” He spoke in a high voice, his eyes full of anger. “Lord Peter Vaisey, the former Sheriff of Nottingham, and Lady Isabella of Gisborne traveled to the Holy Land to assassinate King Richard.” He narrowed his eyes to slits. “The king was injured by Vaisey’s arrow, but he wasn’t killed. We thwarted their treacherous plans.”

The silence was broken by the loud, blithesome cries of the peasants. The shock of Robin’s unexpected appearance was gone, and the people gave joyful cries and smiled. The villagers of Locksley were enthusiastically greeting their real master, smiling at him and bowing to him in deep respect.

“Shut him up! Shut him up!” Isabella shouted. She was able to stand from her chair as Rotherham had already extracted Robin’s arrows from the chair. “He is saying falsehood!”

Robin shook his head. “Lady Isabella of Gisborne, you are charged with the attempted regicide on the king’s life.” His gaze drifted to Guy, and a tiny smile tugged his lips upward. “Guy of Gisborne didn’t try to kill the king! He tried to save our liege, but Lady Isabella shot him!” He grimaced in disgust. “She not only tried to kill the king, but also injured her own brother!”

Meanwhile, Carter and Archer stood in the crowd, watching the scene of Robin’s resurrection.

“It is sheer madness, but it is sweet madness,” Archer assessed, grinning under his hood.

“Archer, be ready to save Robin’s ass again. We must stay close to him,” Carter warned.

Robin was smiling as he eyed the smiling people, but his features hardened and a vindictive light shone in his eyes as he looked back at Isabella. “Guy of Gisborne didn’t try to kill me in Acre!” he repeated in a booming voice. He wasn’t going to reveal the truth about Guy’s two grave crimes – the first failed regicide attempt in a Saracen disguise and the second attempt on his liege’s life; on the contrary, he needed to whitewash the reputation of his former foe because Melisende and he had the plan to outwit and defeat Vaisey. “I was wounded by Lord Peter Vaisey! Gisborne is innocent – Vaisey is guilty!”

The people started whispering, more shocked than a few moments before.

Robin gave Isabella a close perusal, smiling at the realization that she was frightened by the turn of events; then he turned away and swept his eyes over the crowd. “Almost three years ago, I returned from the Crusade to Nottingham,” he continued, his gaze wandering around and not focusing on anyone in particular. “I was outlawed by Sheriff Vaisey after I had saved four people from hanging, which they didn’t deserve.” He paused, sighing deeply before saying something which he didn’t want to say but considered his duty to do. “I publicly protested against tyranny and oppression, and I did my best to make your life more bearable. But what I see now is disturbing and disappointing.”

A morbid quiet fell over the square. All the eyes were attached to Robin, for his return was sensational; they even forgot about their former fears of the solar eclipse.

“Guy of Gisborne killed Vaisey,” Robin stated; he didn’t say that he doubted Vaisey’s death. “But you came here to witness Gisborne’s death. You rejoiced at the prospect of his death.” His eyes locked with Guy’s. “How is that possible that you are happy to watch him die, knowing that he got rid of Vaisey, who ruined many lives and killed countless innocents? Prove that my eyes deceive me if I am wrong!”

Guy thought that he had gone mad. A multitude of feelings crossed his face: surprise, amazement, disbelief, admiration, and happiness. He couldn’t speak, but his face revealed his emotions clearly, and Robin could read them. He was full of gratitude to Robin for the honest words.

Robin’s accusing announcement drew a gasp of shock from the people, both the nobles and the peasants. Many of them lowered their heads in shame, while others began to whisper.

Robin shot another arrow at Isabella, and it again flew near her face but injured nobody. “I myself asked King Richard to pardon Guy of Gisborne, and the king granted my request.” His eyes met Guy’s for an instant, and then he again eyed the crowd. “If Gisborne was pardoned by the rightful King of England, then why do you tolerate that he is standing on the scaffold today?”

Guy felt his body trembling, and if he didn’t stand on his knees, he would have lost his balance after hearing Robin’s last words. He smiled broadly, looking at Robin. He felt as if something cool and soft were caressing his cheek, and he could almost feel its tender touch, so fleeting and brief, but full of tenderness. Never had he been so relieved that Robin wasn’t his enemy anymore; he felt that he was in debt to Robin.

The townspeople were shocked with Robin’s declaration, and many of them still held their heads low, feeling ashamed for the joy which they had felt before Guy’s execution. Robin himself had said that Vaisey had attempted regicide and had wounded the Lionheart, which meant that Prince John’s announcement was mendacious; Robin’s confession fully proved that.

“Arrest this man!” Isabella’s face was ghostly pale, and she was seized by panic. “He is a liar!”

Robin shrugged Isabella’s words off; he again bowed to the crowd and then turned to face Isabella. “The people of Nottingham,” he said in emphatic tones, “I am your humble servant. It is for you that I live to fight the evil that chokes this country. And if we all don’t stand together against all those who are the traitors to King Richard and the nation, the evil will destroy England and many innocent people will die! No longer shall we live in fear and darkness! We must stand together! Only then will the sun rise over this country, our England, once more!”

The people raised their eyes and looked at the resurrected hero. The peasants erupted into cheers, demonstrating their positive reception of their hero’s speech. While the cheers seemed never abating from the peasants, the nobles behaved in a more restrained manner, fearful of potential repercussions from Prince John and having no doubt that Isabella would notify him about the today’s events soon.

In spite of looking pompous and simultaneously hostile, Isabella was secretly relieved that Robin was alive. But she had to pretend and play her game. Turning to Rotherham, she began to speculate about the incredibility of the situation. "Robin of Locksley was mortally wounded. I saw Vaisey stab him in the gut, and I don't understand how he could have survived."

The Baron of Rotherham shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how Hood survived. We must kill him.”

Isabella became inwardly distressed. “Prince John wasn’t pleased with Hood’s death. Remember the consequences of his murder for the Poitevin nobles, who publicly accused the prince of the evil deed.”

“Then we must arrest Hood, and Prince John will decide what to do with him,” Rotherham proposed.

Isabella nodded vigorously. That was better than anything else, for she didn’t want to take part in Robin’s assassination. “You are right, my lord. We must capture Robin of Locksley, but not to kill him.”

“We will capture Hood and will give him to the prince,” Rotherham closed the topic, his gaze traveling from Isabella to Blamire. “Blamire, I want Robin Hood arrested; he must be unharmed.”

Blamire nodded. “It will be done, my lord.” Then he shouted the respective orders to the guards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, it was the first chapter in “Fight for Peace”, the third and final part of the trilogy “Quintessence of Life”, and I sincerely hope that you will accompany me on this long and enthralling journey through the Robin Hood alternative universe world.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter about Robin’s return to Nottingham and his resurrection.
> 
> As storms subsided, Robin and his friends were finally able to cross the Channel and return to England, heading directly to Nottingham after receiving the news about Guy’s upcoming execution. Robin loves both Melisende and Marian, and, as I mentioned in the author’s notes to chapter 17 in “Mysteries Unveiled”, there will be the resolution of the love triangle in the stunning finale of the trilogy. I remind you that Amicia de Beaumont, Robert de Beaumont’s sister, is a real historical persona, and in this story/novel she is King Richard’s mistress and spy; she plays an important role in this story as a spy.
> 
> I wanted Guy and Megan, the two jailbirds, to have a heart-to-heart conversation before their execution. Megan is already in love with Guy, and, thinking that they are doomed to die, she confesses her true feelings for him. Guy is not in love with Megan, but he is smitten by her – he is physically attracted to her and he is impressed with her intelligence, wisdom, honesty, and many other good qualities. To me, it comes across as natural that Guy compares Megan with Marian, and in many ways he feels more comfortable with Megan, who is not in love with Robin Hood and never compares him to his former enemy. I promised that there would be a drama between Marian, Megan, and Guy in “Fight for Peace”: it will happen when Marian, Megan, and Guy meet in one of the future chapters.
> 
> Robin’s arrival in Nottingham results in the grand drama as our hero and his friends stop Guy and Megan’s execution and the hero appears before the crowds of nobles and peasants, all of whom are shocked and delighted to see him alive. I wanted Robin’s resurrection to be theatrical, detailed, colorful, extraordinary, and unforgettable in a Robin-like way, which is why I wrote the scene where Robin publicly accuses Vaisey and Isabella of attempting regicide and of wounding him, openly enjoying the moment and boldly mocking his enemies. This is my favorite episode in this chapter, and in the next chapter, the scene of Robin’s resurrection in the courtyard will continue to unfold.
> 
> I think the twist with Malcolm’s sudden reappearance and his attack on Allan was unexpected. Allan is wounded and bleeding on the front steps of the castle. But Robin finally met his father! Of course, Robin, Archer, Guy, and Malcolm will have a difficult conversation in one of the future chapters.
> 
> Robin already knows about King Richard’s disappearance on the way from Acre. You know that I am not going to kill off Guy, and you can guess that Robin will save the day – he will rescue Megan and Guy. Megan already knows where the king is, while Robin has already thoughts about the matter as well. Maybe you noticed that Robin doubts the fact of Vaisey’s death, which might intrigue you.


	2. A Battle for Freedom

**Chapter 2**

**A Battle for Freedom**

Robin of Locksley stood near the battlements, his eyes taking in the chaos in the courtyard; his expression was smug, his smile flamboyant. It was a long time since he had felt a strong thrill of excitement that coursed through his veins at the moment. He was pleased with his performance – the grand spectacle – before Isabella and the people of Nottingham. He returned in triumph and made a laughingstock out of his enemies, and Nottingham lay at his feet.

More than twenty guards moved towards Robin. He quickly realized that there would be a fierce fight with the soldiers who were intent on capturing him. He was relieved that he had two quivers full of arrows, one of them carried by Carter.

As Carter and Archer appeared behind Robin, they prepared for the battle: Archer flung off his bow and quiver from his back, Carter unsheathed his twin swords, and Robin prepared his own bow and arrows. They were not pleased that they would have to fight and, most likely, to kill, but circumstances compelled them to give Isabella’s men an aggressive counterattack.

Robin looked between Archer and Carter. “Lads, be prepared to defend ourselves. We have enough arrows. The others are also ready.” He narrowed his eyes at the guards who were moving through the crowd to them, or, accurately speaking, who were hunting him. It worried him that the soldiers were surrounding the whole square, for they risked to be trapped there. “We will release Gisborne, Lady Megan, and the two other women after Djaq and Will begin to act.”

As the guards were treading their way through the crowd, the people parted, each of them shocked with Isabella’s actions. The execution was stopped, although the four condemned prisoners still stood on the scaffold, and instead the fight was going to unfold in the courtyard.

"We are ready, Robin," Carter assured his friend.

“Always,” Archer uttered, his hand gripping his bow tightly.

Robin grinned. “Let’s show them what we have in stock for them!” he promulgated.

In the next moment, a strange package landed in several feet from the front steps, but in the area where nobody was. Robin released a flaming arrow that flew across the square that hit the package, and the thundering sound of a small explosion cut through the air. Whisperings stopped, and a heavy silence hung over the square; Isabella, Rotherham, and Blamire lapsed into silence as well. All eyes were searching for the source of the sound, and then the next explosion followed, the people turned to the front steps, where they could see Will and Djaq.

A small cloud of smoke or steam emitted from something. Another jolting sound followed, and heavy clouds descended upon the central square.

"What is going on?" Isabella’s high-pitched cry resonated.

“What is Hood doing?” the Baron of Rotherham asked in a panicking voice. “Stop Hood! Capture him!”

The visibility was limited by the smoke, and the guards were coughing. The smoke was gradually evaporating, but Will and Djaq were planning to arrange more diversions.

Carter and Archer removed their hoods and stepped closer to Robin. Archer smiled defiantly and winked at his half-brother, and Carter let out a short laugh. Meanwhile, Guy was watching Robin and his companions from the scaffold; he shook his head, confused when his eyes locked with Archer’s, for he didn’t understand why Prince John’s assassin had arrived in Nottingham with Robin.

Another explosion followed, drawing gasps of horror and screams of panic from the crowd.

“Stop Robin Hood! Stop this damned outlaw!” Rotherham shouted.

Looking at the panicking people around, Robin felt obliged to calm them down. He proclaimed in a loud, clear voice, “Nobody will be harmed! It is not dangerous for you!”

In a few moments, the Nightwatchman approached Robin, Carter, and Archer. “Lord Rotherham, you have no right to address Robin of Locksley in an informal manner!” the masked hero shouted. He put off his mask and threw it on the ground; now everyone could see his face. “He is Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and Count de Bordeaux! You should remember his name very well!”

“Welcome to our spectacle,” Robin told the Nightwatchman, grinning at his friend.

“Who are you?” Rotherham pointed at the Nightwatchman.

The newcomer made a mocking bow. “I have come here in time,” he said in an ironic tone, grinning impudently; his hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed scimitar. “I am sure you have heard about me. My name is Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester.” He laughed. “I hope you liked my small distraction; you sent many guards after me. I tried not to harm those men, but if someone died, I don’t hold myself responsible.”

Guy smiled earnestly at the sight of Robin of Locksley, surrounded by Robert de Beaumont, Carter of Stretton, and Archer. Knowing the reputation of these battled-hardened Crusaders, he had no doubt that Robin and his friends would rescue the prisoners today.

The Baron of Rotherham and Isabella of Gisborne froze in shock, looking at King Richard’s grand favorites – Robin of Locksley and Robert de Beaumont, two legendary war heroes in the Holy Land. Robert de Beaumont’s reputation of the best swordsman in Christendom frightened them.

Another explosion followed, and the townspeople again screamed. Robin’s loud and calm voice spoke that nothing dangerous was happening. Clouds of smoke enveloped the courtyard, and for several long moments, the visibility was terrible. Then something again exploded somewhere in the area of the battlements, and another cloud of smoke swirled around; then more explosions boomed. The smoke rose perpendicularly near the entrance to the castle as Djaq threw black powder there and Will shot a flaming arrow.

Rotherham snapped his fingers, and Blamire nodded at him. Taking several guards, Blamire headed to Robin and his friends, rudely forcing the crowd to part. Commotion escalated, and the people started moving in the central square, some of them hurrying to leave while others were too frightened to make up their minds on a course of action. Everything morphed into the chaos of moving people and the guards trying to get to Robin through the tightly compressed masses.

"Robin," Robert de Beaumont called as he tugged at the sleeve of Robin’s cloak.

The guards finally reached Robin and the others. Robin laughed at the soldiers who shuffled their feet nervously and stepped back as the portcullis shook with a new explosion. The men hesitated to attack, and then Blamire’s harsh voice commanded to seize Robin.

“Now! For King Richard!” Robin shouted. He released several arrows at the approaching guards. The arrows struck them in their thighs and legs, making it impossible for them to participate in the battle.

Robert drew his sword and shoved two guards away. “For King Richard! For England!” Another guard lunged at him, but he dodged from the blow and then slammed his fist into the man’s face. Swinging his sword, he cut the sword arm of another man, trying not to kill at Robin’s request.

“For King Richard!” Carter’s voice spoke as he slammed the hilt of his sword into the face of his attacker, rendering the guard unconscious. Another man attacked him, and Carter parried a blow.

Archer fired several arrows that struck the guards, who had just emerged from the crowd, in their thighs. He wasn’t going to kill either if he could spare their enemies, following Robin’s order. “Robin, we must release Guy and the others,” he told his half-brother who was next to him.

Robin shot an arrow that hit one of the guards in the ankle. “A moment,” he answered quickly. He released a hail of arrows at the guards, who were still making their way through the crowd towards them. “We should advance forward, towards the scaffold.”

“Robin, you told us not to kill these men, but they are desperate to capture us, especially you,” Robert pointed out as he deflected a blow and disarmed his opponent, then knocked him out by slamming the hilt of his sword into the man’s skull. “They don’t appreciate our kindness.”

“We cannot be captured.” Robin placed his unused arrows in his quiver and put it on his back. “If we have to kill them, then we kill.” In a close combat, he needed his sword. He unsheathed his scimitar, delighted that Prince Malik had given him a scimitar in Jerusalem; he never liked broadswords.

Carter knocked the sword out of his rival’s arms; then he slammed the hilt of his sword into the man’s head. “They are very aggressive, and they will kill us without a second thought.”

“We kill if we must,” Robin repeated flatly as he blocked a blow and then incapacitated his opponent. His heart protested against new killings, but he couldn’t be captured and killed because now the king needed him more than ever before. Moreover, Robin remembered that his hesitation to finish off Vaisey in Imuiz had resulted in his death, and he learned his lesson.

Archer stabbed at the guard attacking him, quickly disarming him and slicing his sword arm. “They are determined to capture you, Robin. I agree with Sir Robert – we have to dispose of them.”

Robin sighed heavily as he parried a blow and riposted toward his foe’s flank; in a few moments, the man already lay unconscious on the ground. In the next moment, Robin was attacked by two more enemies, one of whom was knocked out by Robert and the other by Carter.

Robin and Archer began to make their way to the scaffold. Robert and Carter followed them; but then Carter went ahead, trying to carve a free path through the masses. Soon Will and Djaq finally joined Robin and the others. Tuck was not with them because he had another important task – to release the prisoners.

“I want Robin Hood alive! I want him for Prince John!” the Baron of Rotherham shrilled.

Robin turned to Rotherham, who was gesticulating while talking to Isabella. Rotherham’s words fueled the fire of hatred for the Black Knights, whom he wished to see dead for their crimes against England and King Richard. Implacable hatred for traitors was burning in his blood, in his chest, and deep within his soul, and a veil of red covered his vision as bloodlust gripped him tightly, like a tiger pouncing on its prey. Bloodlust hadn’t hit him like that since the regicide attempt in Imuiz; he no longer cared whether he killed or not.

“Proceed with the execution!” Isabella decided to comply with Prince John’s order and kill Guy.

Guy turned his head at Isabella, his eyes full of loathing. He found it difficult to believe that his own sister wanted him dead so much that she was trying to use the moment when Robin and his friends were locked in battle with the guards. Yet, despite Isabella’s actions, his pity for her was uncommonly alive: she reminded him of his own surrender to vices and ambitions in his quest for power.

Guy turned to Megan and saw despair and fear in the lady’s deep blue eyes. Blood pounded in his temples, and he averted his gaze. At the thought that he would die despite Robin’s attempt to save them, his heart filled with mortal terror that chilled him to the bone.

Robin heard Isabella’s command, but he was pre-occupied with the guards who continued attacking him like hawks attacking a crow. As he knocked out one guard, Robin knelt and put off the quiver from his back. Carter, Robert, and Archer surrounded Robin, protecting him from the guards and giving him time to shoot the executioners who stood on the scaffold with axes in their hands.

Robin hastily drew his bow. He paused for a split second, trying to steady his breathing and to keep himself from trembling. His emotions were churning, and the tension in his abdominal muscles hurt like hell. His scar throbbed in pain, and Robin gritted his teeth, ignoring the uncomfortable sensations. Every instinct in him urged him to calm down and concentrate, but it was easier said than done.

Taking a deep breath, Robin drew back the bowstring, aiming at the chest of the first executioner who raised an axe. An arrow whizzed through the air, and he sighed, his eyes focused on the flying arrow.

Robin was awash in relief as the arrow struck the executioner in the chest. The axe flew straight up in the air as the man fell from the scaffold. It was his first killing after his death, and he didn't feel guilty for taking the executioner's life.

Not wasting time, Robin instantly nocked another arrow, aiming at the axe that was still flying down, threatening to land on Guy’s neck. The arrow hit the hilt of the axe and sent it spinning in the air; in a few moments, the axe fell on the scaffold near Guy’s feet. Then Robin fired another arrow and shot the second executioner, who was going to carrying out Megan’s sentence.

Gisborne gasped in astonishment, looking at the axe that lay next to his feet. He had thought that it would kill him, preparing to meet his maker. But it was Robin’s arrow, and Robin never missed! Guy’s eyes met Robin’s, and he discerned a familiar twinkle in the eyes of his former enemy. Guy smiled ever so slightly, and Robin smiled back before turning away from him.

Friar Tuck climbed to the scaffold and strode to the two prisoners – Guy and Megan. Tuck pulled the dagger from his boot and cut the ropes on Guy’s wrists; then he removed the gag from Guy’s mouth. The monk then released Megan and took the gag out of her mouth.

Megan smiled, her eyes shining with gratitude as she looked at Tuck. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She veered her gaze to the front steps of the castle, where she saw her father’s motionless form, two arrows protruding out of his body. “My father! My father is there!” her desperate outcry came. “I have to save him!” She rushed from the scaffold to the front steps.

“Megan, wait for me!” Guy urged her to stop, but she didn’t react. He cast a brief look at Rebecca and Kate, but he wasn’t worried about them because Tuck could take care of them.

Tuck understood that Guy would follow Megan, and nodded at him, silently encouraging him to go. Then he approached Kate and Rebecca and released them. “Follow me,” he told the two women.

“We have to get out of Nottingham,” Rebecca replied, not even thanking the friar.

Before leaving, Guy gave Rebecca an ironic look. “The two of you wouldn’t have been here today if your daughter were less willing to take her revenge on me.”

Rebecca bristled and hissed, “What do you want, you murderer? To rape my daughter?”

Guy looked at Rebecca as if she were a lunatic. "God's teeth, think before you speak!"

“He means nothing,” Kate said quietly, her cheeks burning with what Guy thought could be a shame.

"Stop insulting Sir Guy! You all could die today, but you didn't! Be united in trouble!" Tuck chided them. "Follow me! We don't have time."

The only thing Rebecca wanted was to leave. “Yes, let’s leave this terrible place.”

Not sparing the two women from Locksley another glance, Guy hastened down the scaffold and dissolved in the crowd. Tuck motioned Rebecca and Kate to follow him; they descended from the scaffold and began to move through the crowd towards the opposite side of the central square.

Surrounded by the people and guards from all sides, Guy stopped and picked up a sword of one of the guards, who had already been defeated by one of Robin’s friends. Then he threaded his way through the crowd and paused for a moment as he spotted Megan’s petite figure not far from him. Megan was almost near the front steps, and he had to intercept her before Isabella or Rotherham could notice her.

Guy began to move in the midst of people who were moving as well, complicating his task to catch up with Megan. He was in the center of great chaos, and soon he lost Megan from sight. He craned his neck to examine the surroundings and desperately hoping to find her, but failed. Thanks be to God that there were no skirmishes in the part of the courtyard where he was at the moment, he thought.

Finally, Gisborne was out of the throng; he was almost near the front steps of the castle. He saw Megan kneel near her father and withdraw an arrow from his chest. He had to get to her as quickly as possible; his heart was palpitating with fear that something bad would happen to Megan. He took a step forward, his hand gripping the sword more tightly.

Guy wasn’t able to reach Megan as several guards discovered him and launched an assault on him. As the guard lunged at him, Guy blocked a blow and then directed a counter blow at his attacker, hitting the man into the skull and rendering him unconscious. Another guard stabbed forward at Guy, who sidestepped and deflected what could have been a mortal blow. Guy had to fight and couldn’t avoid killing.

Guy saw two guards who had once served under his command and whom he liked more than others. They were Sir Aubrey of Peterborough and Sir Roderick of Bardney; they weren’t attacking him and instead were fighting against Isabella’s men. Guy was profoundly astonished by their actions.

Guy blew out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Thank you, Roderick and Aubrey,” he told the two men who had knocked out two guards a moment ago.

Aubrey of Peterborough nodded. “Welcome, Sir Guy. Do you want to get to the front steps?”

"Yes," Guy affirmed. "I must protect Lady Megan."

“We will help you, Sir Guy,” Roderick of Bardney promised. “I cannot watch what Lady Isabella is doing. I heard what Lord Huntingdon said about her: she tried to kill the king in Acre! She is a traitor to England, and I don’t want to work for her; I am not a traitor.”

Guy smiled faintly. “Robin of Locksley said the truth.” He glanced around, searching for Robin, but there were too many people around. “Did you see Robin? Where is he?”

“Robin Hood and his friends are locked in a fierce battle in the opposite part of the courtyard,” Aubrey answered. “They are fighting for their freedom.”

Guy’s heart sank into his throat. Robin and the others were too far from him and couldn’t help him in case something unexpected happened to Megan or him. He was weak and tired after spending more than four months in the underground dungeons. A splitting headache pierced his skull with pain, and it took all the strength he had to stop himself from crying out in pain and force himself to concentrate. Now his mission was to reach Megan and move her out of harm’s way.

Robin Hood had saved Megan and Guy today, but the battle for freedom was not over. Guy thought that God had saved Robin Hood and Robin had saved them, and now he had to save Megan.

§§§

Standing near the entrance to the castle, Isabella took the opportunity of observing the events in the central courtyard. “Capture the Earl of Huntingdon! He must remain unscratched!” she ordered, adamant in her decision not to cause Robin more harm than she had already done in the Holy Land.

Isabella looked across the square and rested her eyes on Robin Hood. More than ten guards attacked Robin, who was moving swiftly among his enemies, swinging his golden scimitar as he lunged, blocked, and parried. Robin fought with Isabella’s guards, still doing his best to avoid killing, but there were too many enemies attacking him that there was no way to avoid bloodshed.

Isabella’s mind drifted back to Guy, and she wondered where her brother was at the moment. When Guy had been imprisoned and she had seen him being tortured nearly to death, her heart had grown heavy, and she had even felt guilty. Yet, every time she allowed compassion to enter her heart, she reminisced about the years of her horrible marriage to Squire Thornton, which she had spent in misery and experiencing abuse and neglect of all kinds. Once she had wanted to be a kind and honorable woman, like her mother Ghislaine, but no man in her life appreciated superb moral beliefs and code of honor. It was too late to change anything, and she couldn’t forgive Guy for selling her to Thornton!

The last bit of compassion which Isabella had for her brother was squashed by her memories. Hatred for him pervaded every fibre of her being, and she issued a new order, speaking in a high, authoritative voice. “Kill Guy of Gisborne and everyone else, save for Robin Hood!”

“Don’t harm both Robin of Locksley and Robert de Beaumont!” the Baron of Rotherham shrieked.

Isabella and Rotherham exchanged brief glances of silent agreement. They knew that Prince John would be angry if two of King Richard’s grand favorites died in Nottingham today, which was especially dangerous for the prince’s reputation in the light of Robin’s miraculous return.

The majority of nobles from Bordeaux, who had sworn their allegiance to Robin after his marriage to Lady Melisende Plantagenet, Countess de Bordeaux in her own right, had openly accused John of King Richard’s disappearance and of Robin’s murder. Many Poitevin nobles and Norman lords distasted the prince’s schemes, and John had lost the support of those few nobles who had betrayed King Richard due to their displeasure with Richard’s prolonged absence. The death of Robert de Beaumont, Richard’s most loyal vassal, could only aggravate the situation, blackening the prince’s reputation in Aquitaine even more. However, Robin’s resurrection gave the prince a great chance to cast the blame for the hero’s “murder” on the deceased man – Vaisey; Isabella and Rotherham understood that.

Meanwhile, Guy and two guards – Sir Aubrey of Peterborough and Sir Roderick of Bardney – finally reached the front steps. Guy rested his eyes on Megan who was still kneeling by Hugh Bennet, obviously shocked and distressed. Guy accelerated his footsteps, wishing to reach her as soon as possible, to comfort her and protect her.

Guy said words of gratitude to Aubrey and Roderick, who pledged to watch him while he would be talking to Megan. Then he rushed to the girl who had grown to like more than he admitted to himself.

“Father, please open your eyes,” Guy heard Megan say. “Father, please don’t die.”

Guy knelt near Megan, his eyes darting between her father and her. “Is he alive?”

Megan swung her gaze to Guy, but she didn’t see him; her eyes were filled with tears that misted her vision. “My father is dead, Guy! I killed him!”

Megan turned away from Guy, leaning over Hugh Bennet’s body and weeping. The last vestige of her control was slipping away, and she could feel it sliding further from her grasp. Overwhelmed by a torrent of agonizing emotions, she cupped her face with her palms and broke into loud, heartrending sobs. She felt as if she were adrift on waves that were intent upon taking her under.

Deeply moved emotionally, Guy could not stop his own eyes from watering over. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t react. He was overwhelmed with the desire to pull her into his arms, cradle her against his chest, and alleviate her pain, hugging her as tightly as possible. During their imprisonment, his personal attachment to her had been increasing daily, and it had been a source of consolation to him; he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to protect her from all perils.

“You didn’t kill your father, Meg. It is not your fault,” he spoke in a husky murmur.

Megan lifted her eyes to him; her hands went nervously to the collar of her gown and began anxiously toying with lace. Looking into Guy’s eyes, she was surprised to see small tears there. “My father came here to save me from Lady Isabella,” she murmured in a throaty voice, her voice sodden with sorrow. “Therefore, it is my fault that he is dead. It is only my fault.” Tears were shining in her eyes.

Guy shook his head. “Meg, your father loved you, and he came here to save you,” he said in a silken, persuading, and tender voice. “It is not your fault that the guards shot him.”

She shook her head to emphasize her reasoning. “I spied for Queen Eleanor, and my father helped me because he is loyal to King Richard and the Queen Mother. But I was arrested, and he was going mad during my absence, trying to guess where I disappeared,” she said in a shaking voice. “When he heard about my execution, he came here and met his death… because of me.”

“It is Isabella’s fault that he is dead,” he objected. “Not yours.”

Megan looked away, her eyes focusing on the pale face of her father. She was silent for a while, and then a soft cry erupted from deep within her throat. She swallowed heavily, pain welled up in her heart, and she again broke down in a deluge of tears. “My father came here to save me, and now he is dead because of me,” she repeated in between sobs what she had already said a few moments ago. “I was so foolish that I got myself arrested! I killed my father!”

Guy felt his heart constrict in his chest. Her words of guilt and her sobs struck a chord of despondency in his heart, and a wave of empathy and sadness flowed over him. “Ah, Meg, you couldn’t know that you would be discovered in the castle and apprehended by Rotherham. You wanted to help the king and the queen, and it is not your fault that you were not lucky.” He couldn’t take away her pain, but he could soothe it. “I am so sorry for your loss, Meg. I will do anything you desire, just tell me what you want and you will have it. I cannot see you suffer!”

Guy’s last words went past Megan’s ears, like a barely noticeable summer breeze. Megan’s world was plunging into despair, and perhaps there was no such thing as a savior for the world that was as broken as hers. A raw, aching cry ripped from her throat, so low and anguished that, at first, she herself didn’t recognize that it as coming from her own mouth. She gasped and began crying harder, her heart writhing in agony. Acting on impulse, she closed the distance between Guy and her.

His heart beating to suffocation, Guy opened his arms, and she threw herself into them, and they wrapped around her and hugged her. His beard grated against her face, abrading her tender skin. He began cradling her in his embrace, whispering words of consolation into her ear. Megan completely lost herself in his strong arms, luxuriating in his warmth and in the feeling of his touch that was like velvet. For a moment, the world ceased to exist, and they didn’t even hear the sounds of the battle around.

Guy drew back from her and glanced into her tearful eyes. He cupped her chin tenderly and spoke compassionately. “Listen to me, Meg,” he addressed her in a voice that seemed to tremble slightly in spite of his effort to control it. “You are not guilty of Lord Hugh’s death – it is my sister’s fault.”

Her anguished heart was collapsing in pain. “No… no…”

“Yes! It is not your fault – don’t blame yourself,” he reiterated in a voice edged with deep emotion. “Your father couldn’t allow my sister to execute you, and he did everything to save his beloved daughter. He died a hero’s death, and his memory will always be vivid in the minds of those who are loyal to England and King Richard.” He smiled ever so slightly and brushed away the tears from her cheeks with the back of his hand. “Lord Hugh loved you, and he will always be in your heart, Meg!”

Megan leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Guy,” she whispered.

“I have found our dear lovebirds,” a familiar voice spoke, if it could be called a voice – it was an unpleasant, sarcastic drawl that burned them with the intensity of the speaker’s hatred.

Megan and Guy disentangled from their embrace and jumped to their feet. They turned their heads and stared at the Baron of Rotherham who stood near them, together with three guards.

Lady Megan Bennet looked into the Baron of Rotherham’s eyes; her expression was inscrutable as now she had her nerves under control; her tears were gone, although her heart was hurting more and more with each breath she took. She faced Rotherham without fear, watching him carefully. She would have killed the vile man right now if she wasn’t weaponless, for she wished to cross blades with him and destroy him, like he and Isabella had murdered her father, like tyrants sought to destroy the peasantry of England.

“Lord Rotherham,” Megan hissed. She raised her chin up rebelliously, her blue eyes blazing with fire.

Dragging a deep breath, Guy stared at Megan, feeling an odd jolt of connection pass between them. They had begun to understand each other so well during the weeks of their imprisonment, but their new connection was deeper, maybe because they had enemies in common – Prince John, Isabella of Gisborne, and the Black Knights.

“Stay where you are now, Rotherham,” Guy barked rudely.

Rotherham deliberately ignored Guy and continued looking at Megan. “My lovely Lady Megan, I watched Lord Hugh Bennet’s demise,” he said with a fiendish smile on his face. “I am very glad that the old fool died. He deserved death because he was loyal to the Lionheart.”

“I would have killed you if I could, Rotherham,” Megan shot back between clenched teeth.

Guy grabbed his sword from the ground and brandished the weapon in front of Rotherham. “Don’t come closer to Meg, Rotherham. I will kill you without hesitation.”

Rotherham’s lips curved in an odious smile. “Gisborne, drop your weapon. I won’t allow you to escape from Nottingham alive; definitely not with Lady Megan.” He eyed Megan, thinking that she was young and beautiful – she would have been an ideal wife to him. He wanted her with every breath he drew, but if she didn’t want him, nobody would have her. “Today she will either die or marry me.”

Megan shot Rotherham a gaze full of strong, festering hatred, and he instinctively recoiled from her. “Lord Rotherham, I would rather die than marry you. You are an animal and a traitor to King Richard and England. I hate you wholeheartedly. You deserve a cruel and painful death for your treason.”

Rotherham’s temper was rising, and his face got hot from the rush of blood. “Damn you, Lady Megan! Damn your foolish headstrongness and willfulness!” A tide of rage swept through him. “You and Gisborne will die – I myself will finish you off,” he said in a sibilant voice, looking between Megan and Guy. Gazing into her eyes, he added, “Lady Megan, I really wanted to marry you, but you humiliated me, and I cannot forgive that. I want you dead.”

The sudden appearance of the resurrected hero stopped the conversation. Robin emerged on the front steps, looking between Megan and Guy. With a wry grin, he swooped into an elegant bow.

Carter was at Robin’s left. He didn’t leave Robin alone even for a split second, fearful that something might happen to Robin in the heat of the battle. Robin’s other friends were still fighting with the guards in the distant part of the courtyard.

Robin entered the conversation with undisguised enthusiasm, looking Rotherham in the eye. “Lord Rotherham, your anger makes you do foolish things. You chose a selfish and ineffective way to make a woman fall in love with you,” he mocked as he pointed the tip of his scimitar at the baron. “If you want a lady to love you, you must be more gallant, my lord.”

“Robin Hood,” Rotherham spat, not even trying to conceal his anger. “You must be dead.”

Robin’s lips lengthened in an impish smile. “Many times over!”

Guy and Megan stared at Robin and Carter, their expressions surprised. Guy was at a loss for words for a moment, but then he smiled at Robin. As his mind floated back to the moment when he had witnessed Robin’s dramatic farewell with his friends, he found it difficult to believe that Robin was real; but as Robin turned to him and flashed his trademark grin, he felt elation and hope spring forth.

Robin Hood was really alive and in Nottingham. He wasn’t a figment of imagination.

“Robin of Locksley,” Guy said. His heart swelled with true joy, and a large smile manifested on his face.

“Guy of Gisborne,” Robin returned the formal greeting, a wicked grin flourishing on his face.

“How did you survive?” Guy asked, his voice betraying his impatience to know who the incredible story of Robin’s survival.

“One day I will tell you,” Robin responded curtly. He smiled with a familiar roguish smile that had once irritated Guy a lot. “Although this time we again meet under rather dramatic circumstances, I have to say that this meeting is more pleasant.”

Guy smiled. “Definitely more pleasant.”

Megan said in a joyful tone, “Lord Huntingdon, welcome back to England.” Her face was tear-stained, but it brightened because Robin was alive.

Robin gave her his most charming smile. “Lady Megan Bennet, the world is so small! I am pleased to see you again.” His gaze slid to Lord Hugh Bennet’s body, and a sorrowful look spread over his features. “Last time we met each other at the royal court in Aquitaine, and I loved it more.” He sighed heavily. “Please accept my condolences. I knew Sir Hugh; he was a good man, kind and loyal.”

“Thank you, Sir Robin,” Megan responded quietly, casting her eyes down.

“You must be dead, Hood. Vaisey killed you,” Rotherham interjected, his face screwed up in anger.

Robin let out a haughty laugh. “As you see, my esteemed Lord Rotherham, I am not dead. Our beloved and already departed Lord Vaisey is such a disappointment to Prince John: he failed to kill not only the king but also me. The prince should have never made Vaisey the leader of the Black Knights.”

Rotherham sniggered, his eyes full of malice. “You are alive, but you haven’t brought your precious king home, Hood.”

Anger flared up to burn Robin inside, to the extent that he imagined killing Rotherham right now. He was silent for a moment as he fought for control over the emotions; then he spoke in a flat voice. “I know that _the Black Knights paid to Prince John’s international allies to have King Richard captured somewhere in the Holy Roman Empire_. But now he is safe from the prince because it is difficult, nearly impossible, to kill a foreign monarch in a foreign prison.” His features hardened. “I swear I will bring the king to England, and the Black Knights will pay for high treason.”

A breathless, shocked silence stretched between them. Everyone fixed their eyes upon Robin.

Guy and Megan shared astounded glances. They were surprised that Robin had already learned the truth about the king’s fate, wondering where Robin had gotten the news.

Rotherham’s expression changed into shock. “How did you learn that, Huntingdon?”

Robin smiled almost mystically. “I have my own secrets. _I am Robin Hood, after all!_ ”

Guy and Megan rolled their eyes, but in a moment bright smiles lit up their faces. It seemed that some things didn’t change even after death: Robin Hood would always be an arrogant and self-assured mischief-maker, courting trouble, putting interests of others before his own, fighting against tyranny with a cheeky grin on his face, and saving England, kings, and most humble souls. However, there was an odd light in Robin’s eyes, something they noticed but couldn’t decipher.

Rotherham’s shocked voice redirected Guy and Megan’s thoughts back to King Richard and Robin.

“You… you cannot know where… the king is…” Rotherham stuttered.

Robin laughed. “Rotherham, you are an utter fool if you don’t understand how I guessed what you did to our liege.” He wished to test Rotherham; they didn’t know for sure where the king was, but now he had a chance to check the results of Robert de Beaumont’s investigation. “Or have you forgotten that I was the captain of King Richard’s private guard for more than five years?”

“Rotherham, you are an idiot if you underestimated Robin of Locksley,” Guy interjected. His own experience of fighting against the leader of the merry men from Sherwood proved how smart, clever, strong, and conniving Robin was. He had admired Robin’s outstanding fighting skills and Robin’s clever tactics and schemes even before their reconciliation in Acre. Guy would never say aloud that, even in the moments when he had hated Robin, he had never denied that Robin Hood was the quintessence of inner strength, honor, loyalty, compassion, bravery, and nobility of heart.

Robin gave Guy a questioning look, then smiled with his familiar immodesty. Guy also smiled at Robin’s searching look, understanding that his former foe didn’t expect to hear words of respect from him.

Rotherham’s face became red, and he was seething with anger. “Damn you, Hood! Damn you!”

“Damn me, damn me,” Robin mimicked the baron’s words and intonation.

“Robin has always been the best of the best,” Carter put in, praising his friend.

A still-astonished Megan confirmed, “Sir Robin, you are right. King Richard was captured in Austria.”

“That’s what we thought,” Robin said evenly. Although his face was impassive and his voice sounded calm, his eyes were blazing with anger that could spiral out of control, into pure, black rage.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Rotherham was losing his temper.

“I forgot to say, Rotherham, that you will die today,” Robin declared in a menacing voice. “Today, the Black Knights will suffer more losses. We are at war – this is a war, make no mistake.” His expression shifted into frank mocking. “You and your friends are such poor tacticians and badly skilled fighters. I remember how you were wounded during the massacre in the Crusaders’ camp.”

“You crossed a line, Robin,” Carter remarked worriedly.

“I don’t care,” Robin said nonchalantly, smiling. “I like a challenge.”

“Hood, I hate you so much! I would have killed you myself if I could,” Rotherham growled, narrowing his eyes. “Instead, I will concentrate on Gisborne today.”

Before someone could react, the Baron of Rotherham advanced forward and attacked Guy, lunging at him with a diagonal blow. Megan stepped forward and placed herself between Guy and Rotherham. In the next moment, Guy pushed Megan away, but Rotherham’s blade sliced through her left side; she gave a scream of pain and clutched her side as a fresh sharp pain slashed through her.

“Megan!” Guy‘s terrified cry resonated.

“Lady Megan!” Robin and Carter screamed in a chorus.

“Good Lord!” Megan cried out. She fell to her knees, her hand pressed to her wound.

As Guy rushed to Megan, Robin and Carter attacked Rotherham and the guards who stood beside the baron. Battle cries and clatter of swords striking each other filled the area, as Robin and Carter fought against Rotherham and the guards. The clang of swords also resounded in the distance as Robin’s other friends battled with Isabella’s soldiers in the opposite part of the courtyard.

It didn’t take Robin much time to have Rotherham cornered. As the baron was pinned against one of the columns, Robin pulled the blade sharply upwards and prepared to make a brutal finishing strike, but in the next moment, a guard attacked him from the back. He barely had time to turn around and duck from the man’s blow. Using his chance, Rotherham hustled to get away and made his way to where Isabella was standing; he wanted to be under the protection of the guards.

Guy dropped to his knees next to Megan. His face was pale in shock and horrified as his eyes registered blood on her clothes. “Meg, look at me!” he called. “You will be alright! You will be fine!” he spoke hastily. “Damn, Meg, look at me! You won’t die!”

“Guy… He stabbed me…” Megan turned to Guy, tears of pain filling her eyes. She raked her right hand through her dark hair, her left hand pressed to the wound. She took a deep, shuddering breath, but the air seemed too heavy and she exhaled painfully. She could hear her own wild heartbeat.

“You won’t die! You won’t die!” Guy repeated the words like a mantra.

“I don’t want to die,” Megan murmured. Strong waves of pain passed through her side, leaving her expression open and vulnerable. “I don’t want to die.” Her consciousness was ebbing away, and little remained of her will-power. Yet, she could still hear Guy’s voice assuring and reassuring her that she wouldn’t die. “Queen Eleanor needs me! I cannot die while she is held prisoner! I cannot–”

Megan’s statement so discomposed Guy that he looked away for a brief moment. Her words were a disheartening and sickening reminder of Marian’s steadfast loyalty to King Richard and Robin Hood’s cause. Then he looked back at her and exclaimed, “You will be fine! And we will save Queen Eleanor, King Richard, and England!” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Don’t you dare think of death!”

She smiled, her eyes shining with admiration. “Yes, we will do this!”

Megan and Guy heard Djaq’s agitated voice that interrupted their conversation. The Saracen woman knelt near Megan and began to examine the wound with great scrutiny.

“The cut is deep,” Djaq voiced her verdict, gazing into Megan’s eyes. “But it doesn’t look like very dangerous.” Her eyes flicked to Guy, and bewilderment sparkled in their depths, for she was surprised with his concern about Megan. “She will be alright if we hurry and take her out of here.”

In the next moment, Guy was grabbed by several guards; he didn’t have enough time to react. Megan gave a shriek of horror as a surge of panic raced through her stomach; she began to rise to her feet but doubled over with pain. Djaq winded her arm around Megan’s waist to hold her back.

Archer and Robert appeared and launched a rampageous assault on the soldiers who attempted to incapacitate Robin. Archer stabbed his opponent in the gut and then delivered the finishing blow to his adversary’s neck; then he dashed to Guy, intending to defeat the guards who had attacked his half-brother. Carter and Robert were fighting next to Robin, not letting any enemy to approach their friend.

After he had finished off a guard, Robin immediately engaged himself into a fight with another man. “Will and Djaq, take care of Lady Megan,” he shouted against the clamor of the battle as he spotted his friends next to the already unconscious Megan. “Take her out of Nottingham!”

Will’s arm encircled Megan’s waist, and he pulled her up from the ground. Djaq wrapped her arm around the back of the wounded lady, but it became clear to her that Megan had already passed out. Megan’s head slumping to her shoulder, and her face was ghostly pale, looking like all of her blood was drained from her body. Then Friar Tuck approached them, and they conversed quietly.

“Robin! Robin!” Little John called out to his leader.

John still stood near an unconscious Allan, but not on the front steps – Isabella had ordered to take John and Allan away from the place where Allan had been shot. Yet, they were still near the entrance to the castle, and John could see Robin and the others. He was weaponless and was surrounded by six guards, who didn’t participate in the battle because Isabella ordered them to guard him and Allan.

“John, stay there! Stay with Allan!” Robin replied in a high voice, blocking and parrying.

“Capture Sir Robin of Locksley alive!” Isabella repeated her command.

Meanwhile, Archer defeated Guy’s captors, and now Guy fought with Isabella’s guards alongside Robin and the others, shoulder to shoulder, against the same enemy. Robin, Guy, Archer, and the others were in the heart of the battle; Robert and Carter always stayed near Robin, protecting him like the most precious treasure in the world.

Each of them fought automatically, concentrated on the battle and wasting no time on any sorts of distractions. They were in a state of battle-fueled frenzy, but they were killing only those whom they couldn’t knock out as they still trying to comply with Robin Hood’s famous no-killing policy. Even Guy did his best not to kill the men who had once sworn their fealty to Vaisey and had served under his command. Yet, a pile of bodies scattered the front steps and the surrounding area like debris.

Now only Robin Hood and his comrades, as well as the guards remained in the courtyard. Many people had already fled the place that became the battlefield.

Isabella was observing Robin, Guy, and Robin’s friends fighting against her soldiers. She tore her gaze from Robin and glanced at Rotherham, who stood next to her; the baron’s hateful gaze was fixed on Guy. Rotherham was a lovesick fool, she thought. Isabella let her eyes wander around, noting that Will and Djaq were leading Megan away; she didn’t order to detain them, for she pitied Megan and didn’t want to cause her more harm than Rotherham had already done. She wasn’t feeling charitable towards Megan – she just didn’t see any sense in getting rid of her because Robin had already unveiled Prince John’s secret. The lady sheriff suspected that Guy or Rotherham would die today.

Guy fought with two guards at the same time, his eyes darting between his rivals and Megan who was carried by Will and Djaq. He sighed with relief when Megan and Robin’s friends disappeared from the courtyard. He was worried about her, for she had been wounded because of him. He lunged at his opponent and sliced him deeply through the ribs, and then his gaze fixed briefly on Rotherham. At that very moment, his guilty consciousness was almost on the verge of screaming at Rotherham _“I will kill you for Meg!”_ , and he coveted to spill the baron’s blood.

§§§

The battle in the courtyard continued to rage. Carter and Robert were driven back, away from Robin, who was attacked by Blamire and three guards who surrounded him.

“Don’t forget that you cannot kill me. You cannot even harm me,” Robin teased.

“Lord Huntingdon, you are surrounded; you won’t escape,” Blamire announced in a tone that would have brooked no opposition from anyone, except for the bold and fearless Robin Hood. He pointed his long curved sword at Robin and sneered. “Surrender.”

Robin smiled, his eyes taking in Blamire and assessing the weapons which the man was brandishing before his eyes. Judging from Blamire’s dark skin, he concluded that Isabella’s captain of the guards was a Syrian warrior, who was likely to be a formidable fighter, able to hold his own against several trained knights. Blamire would a difficult opponent in a fight, Robin mused.

Robin laughed outright with boyish gayety and innate insolence. “Who are you? Are you Lady Isabella’s new captain of the guards? I think Gisborne was more competent than you.”

Blamire charged into the battle. “I myself will capture you, Hood,” he threatened.

Robin easily deflected Blamire’s blow and parried. “Vaisey tried to capture and kill me many times over, but he always failed,” he retorted in a taunting voice. “Being in a continuing pursuit of Robin Hood, he must have felt like a bad poker player at a table full of seasoned gamblers – my gang and me.”

Robert and Carter attacked two guards who stood close to Blamire and Robin. Archer was engaged in a combat with the third guard. Blamire shouted his orders to surround Robin, and more guards attacked.

Bloodlust seized Robin; rage welled up in him, but he quickly tamped it down, trying to concentrate. Taking a deep breath, he set himself into a sophisticated and beautiful spin – his far-famed magic spin as the Saracens called it in Outremer. Spinning around, Robin swung his scimitar in a deadly arc, slicing his three enemies in their chests just during one spin. His enemies were dead.

“Done,” Robin said to himself, gruffly. The spin he had just performed resulted in the increased tension of his abdominal muscles. He grimaced slightly as a jolt of pain shot through his lower stomach. “Damn,” he cursed, hoping that he would be able to fight ignoring pain.

Blamire advanced forward, at Robin. “I will deal with you, Hood.”

Robin front-blocked Blamire’s diagonal blow, and then took a step back. Using his height as an advantage, Blamire directed at Robin a powerful downward blow, but Robin intercepted it. Then Robin made a deceptive movement, forcing Blamire to take a step back, and sliced the other man’s sword arm. Blamire cried out in pain, scowling at Robin who grinned at him.

Robin again grimaced, feeling great discomfort from the fight. With effort, he schooled his features into neutrality. “You are one of the best swordsmen among these incompetent guards, who always gave me only pathetic resistance instead of a good fight,” he taunted, yet with a touch of respect. “I bid you farewell. Sorry.” He punched his enemy in the jaw with the hilt of his scimitar.

Blamire staggered backwards and tumbled to the ground, unconscious. As she saw that the captain of her guards was out of the battle, an enraged Isabella shouted at her guards to attack and capture Robin Hood, her deafening screams reverberating off the walls of the castle. More guards stormed out of the castle, descended the steps, and rushed forward to where Robin was.

“I need Robin Hood alive! Alive!” Isabella shrilled. As her eyes fell on Archer, her face morphed into confusion and anger, for she didn’t understand what Prince John’s assassin was doing at Robin’s side. She shouted, “Capture that man – Archer. I want him alive for Prince John!”

Archer spewed curses, which were vile words he pulled from a darkness of his anger at Isabella. “Isabella is a venomous snake! But she will pay for everything!” He loathed her with all his heart.

Robin saw eye to eye with Archer. “She is indeed a snake.”

Robin and Archer did a bit of swearing and cursing when they saw more armed soldiers, crowded together shoulder to shoulder, moving towards Robin in a dense mass. The men were dressed in Prince John’s colors and also in the black and yellow uniforms, who were Isabella’s own loyal guards. They all were moving towards their target – Robin Hood.

Robert de Beaumont stopped near Robin. “There are too many guards here.”

Robin nodded. “I have already killed quite many men today.”

“And so have I.” Robert blew out a sigh of exasperation as his eyes took in the mass of approaching guards. “I was on the way to you, Robin, but I saw that you were coping without our help!”

“A magic spin,” Carter said admiringly; he was holding his bloodied twin swords in his hands.

“Are you feeling well, Robin?” Robert asked with concern.

“Yes, I am,” Robin’s carefully restrained reply followed. Truth be told, he felt rather unwell, and his scar began to throb in pain too often to feel comfortable. “Archer was with me when you couldn’t be.”

Archer smiled. “Yes, I watched over him.”

“Good,” Robert said.

Guy stopped next to Robin, his sword stained with blood. Unlike Robin’s friends, he wasn’t thinking of the hero – his mind was centered on Megan. “Where is Meg? Is she safe?” he queried worriedly.

Robin answered in a low voice, “Will and Djaq took Lady Megan to our camp in Sherwood.” He paused, his gaze locked with Guy’s, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. He was surprised to see that Guy – a cruel man, unconcerned about others – was so worried about Megan. “Don’t worry, Gisborne. Djaq is a qualified physician, and she will tend to Lady Megan’s wound.”

 At the same time, Isabella continued observing the battle, surrounded by ten guards. She turned her head and stared at Little John, smiling coldly. Allan had long passed out, and John was very worried about the unfortunate man; he requested that Isabella invite a doctor, but she rejected his plea.

“By all saints, Lady Isabella, tell me why you are so vile,” John said with gravity.

Isabella of Gisborne emitted a heavy sigh. “Sometimes, we have to step on the dark path to survive. It was Guy’s fate, and it is still my fate as well.”

A look of amazement crossed John’s face. “And that’s why you conspired with Vaisey in Acre?”

“It is none of your business.”

“Of course not,” John snapped angrily, his gaze traveling to Allan. “Allan needs medical help.”

“He tried to kill me, and I am not going to let him go,” Isabella stated indifferently.

“Your heart is full of evil thoughts, hatred, jealousy, and greed.”

John’s voice echoed hollowly in Isabella’s ears. Her expression and voice were bland as she stated grimly, “You know nothing about me.” She gazed away, suddenly feeling depleted and tired of life.

John thought that there were some subtle stirrings of emotions behind the lady sheriff’s impenetrable façade. “Lady Isabella, if there is some good in your heart, command to stop this fight.” He looked down, at his hands that were bound in the front, regretting that he couldn’t punch the guards.

Isabella laughed. “I cannot.”

“Why?” John asked curiously.

“Prince John needs Robin Hood.”

There was a disdainful smile on John’s face as he spoke. “You I don’t like. But what else could I expect from Prince John’s mistress and his puppet?”

Isabella’s anger was plainly written all over her features. As she bridled her temper, she smiled, leaning against the wall. “Regardless of what you think of me, I am glad that Huntingdon is alive.”

Little John stared at Isabella, amazed with her ability to surprise him with her words about Robin. He only realized that he was still wearing a bemused look when he saw Isabella scowl at him like a petulant and spoiled child before recovering outward neutrality. John didn’t know what to think of Isabella, who seemed human and vulnerable just for a moment. Nonetheless, she was a sworn enemy of Robin Hood and all his supporters, and John despised her.

Silence ensued, and Isabella and John watched around fifteen guards attack Robin and his companions, who waged an aggressive offensive against their enemies. Every time Robin and the others tried to break through the line of the soldiers and get to Isabella, more guards arrived at the battlefield and pushed them back, closer to the battlements, attempting to block routes for escape.

With great difficulty, Robin, Guy, Archer, and others managed to get rid of half of the guards and gain the upper hand in the battle. But when they fought that soon they would be victorious, the Baron of Rotherham’s personal guards stormed out of the castle and immediately made a violent assault on Robin Hood and the others, trying to surround and overpower them.

Guy of Gisborne was swinging his sword at the guards, blocking and parrying. He let go a string of curses, fighting back so fiercely that the soldiers gasped in horror. From time to time, Guy caught glimpses of Robin, Carter, Robert, and Archer who were embroiled in the savage fight with Isabella’s men; he saw them murder the guards, professionally and with an almost indifferent look on their faces; he also killed many of his opponents.

The Baron of Rotherham emerged near Guy out of the blue. “Gisborne,” he hissed. “You are mine.” Despite his fear to be killed by Robin or one of his friends, he wanted Gisborne – the man who had taken Megan from him – dead.

Guy’s eyes flashed. “Very well, Rotherham.”

Rotherham lunged at Guy with his sword raised, and Guy blocked the man’s overhead blow. The baron feigned a movement to the left and quickly slashed to the right, catching Guy off-guard. Guy wanted to dodge from a blow, but Rotherham grabbed his sword arm, giggling malevolently. For an instant, Guy froze as Rotherham’s actions, both dangerous and unexpected, rendered him awe-struck. Jerking free of his foe’s grip, Guy took a step back, took a calming breath, and lunged at Rotherham.

Guy announced as he blocked Rotherham’s diagonal blow. “Rotherham, this is your last day on earth.”

“You won’t kill me – I will kill you, Gisborne,” Rotherham avouched.

Ignoring pain in the tight muscles of his exhausted body, Guy lifted his sword and lunged at his enemy with a feral growl to meet an overhead blow. The blades clashed, and they began to shift back and forth on the front steps. Both opponents were fighting to kill, coveting to spill each other’s blood.

Gisborne’s expression transformed into the one of a snarling wolf. “You put me on the rack, and you are going to pay for that.” Guy wielded his sword against his enemy.

“I enjoyed flogging you.” Rotherham gave a venomous smile as he stabbed forward at Guy. “You looked very miserable when you sobbed like a beaten woman.”

Guy blocked a downward blow. “But I am going to kill you not for what you did to me,” he continued, his expression intimidating with its harshness. “I will kill you for what you did to Meg.”

Rotherham and Gisborne traded powerful blows, sparks flying from their blades as they tried to gain the upper hand. They circled one another, and there was no clear advantage for either man for a while. The baron’s hateful eyes were fixed on Guy, who thought that he could see in Rotherham’s face all the dark forces of the most vicious demons. Rotherham attacked him again and again, and Guy defended himself, executing thrusts and parries.

Soon, Rotherham’s movements became sluggish, and it seemed that he found it difficult to breathe, for his problems with lung began to trouble him a lot. As Rotherham paused, Guy used his chance and lunged sideways, then raised his blade to slash at his opponent, but the sun glinted off it, blinding him for a moment. Guy stumbled and nearly lost his balance, but he didn’t fell.

Rotherham took the advantage of the moment, swinging his blade high. Guy dodged from the blow that could have been lethal; then he delivered a downward blow, aiming at his adversary’s neck.

Guy was forcing himself to ignore the sharp pain that rocked through his back that was still covered with numerous still-healing welts. Black spots converged on the edge of his vision, and a buzzing sound filled his ears; blood pumped to his head and his temples throbbed, close to exploding. Guy feared that he would lose his consciousness, but he bravely continued fighting with his enemy, knowing that if he allowed exhaustion to catch up with him, he would be murdered.

“I want you dead, Gizzy!” Rotherham sidestepped and blocked a diagonal blow. He was exhausted as well; sweat beaded on his face as he flashed a malevolent smile at Guy. “I enjoyed your agony in the underground hell. I am going to take pleasure in watching you die.”

“Robin is right: Vaisey, you, and the likes of you are too evil to spare your lives,” Guy fired back. Every movement was a torture as tides of pain passed down his back. He found himself galvanized by the loathing and fury that drove him to continue the battle. “I don’t intend to die today, but you will.”

Gisborne lunged at Rotherham, but the baron blocked Guy’s blow, laughing loudly. The baron attacked again, and the next stroke missed Guy’s neck by a hair’s breadth. Guy almost stumbled, but recovered himself, raised the blade, and sliced at Rotherham’s chest. More than anything, Guy wanted to let a blackness surround him so that it would free him from the pain in his back and soreness in his muscles.

Gathered his strength and courage, Guy gripped the hilt of his weapon in both hands and rushed forward headlong, raining down a downward blow at the baron. The blade entered Rotherham’s side, and the baron howled with pain, wobbling a step backward. Guy pulled the sword out of his foe’s flesh, and, with all of his strength, thrust his sword out and impaled Rotherham who fell dead to the ground.

Everything seemed to slow around Guy, and his focus narrowed down to the dead Rotherham. Another traitor to England and King Richard was dead. Guy killed one of the Black Knights, one of his former allies. _Guy was no longer one of Prince John’s pawns, and he wasn’t Vaisey’s dog either._

Guy sighed with relief. “Go to hell, Rotherham.”

“That’s exactly where he is,” Robin averred. He stopped near Guy; his scimitar was sheathed.

Guy arched a brow. “What about your no-killing policy, Locksley?”

Robin stiffened, but his face was carefully blank. “It is not applicable to the Black Knights, Gisborne.”

“I agree.” Guy nodded.

Suddenly, they heard a low moan somewhere nearby. They saw Sir Hugh Bennet trying to pull himself into a sitting position, and hastened to approach the man who was wounded but was still breathing.

Robin dropped to one knee near the injured man. “Sir Hugh, you are alive!”

Hugh was too weak to succeed in trying to sit without anyone’s help; he fell back on the ground. “Sir Robin, you are alive! Prince John said that you were murdered by Gisborne.”

“Prince John lied. Vaisey stabbed me, but I survived… by a miracle.” Robin squeezed the older man’s hand. “Sir Hugh, we will take you to one excellent Saracen healer who will tend to your wound.”

Guy also knelt near the wounded man. “Sir Hugh, hold on.”

“Robin of Locksley and Guy of Gisborne are both by my side,” Hugh said in a voice laced with amazement, his breathing rasping harshly. “I cannot believe you both are here.”

“We are no longer enemies,” Robin said, looking at Guy and then back at Hugh.

Guy gave a slight nod. “It is true.”

Hugh looked steadily into Robin’s eyes. “Lord Huntingdon, I remember you in childhood. You were a good boy, and you became a great man.”

Robin smiled. “I want to thank you for the salvation of my life so many years ago.”

Hugh’s face evolved into astonishment. “Lord Robin, you know the truth, don’t you?”

“I do,” Robin confirmed.

Hugh smiled sadly as his mind traveled to the long-gone days when Richard and his two loyal men – Sir William de Longchamp and Sir Hugh Bennet – had rescued Robin from Bailiff Longthorn. “Lord Robin, you were so vulnerable on that night. I still remember how our king carried you in his arms, hoping that you wouldn’t die before we managed to get you to safety and find a doctor for you.”

Guy frowned, confused. “What does he mean?” he addressed his question to Robin.

Robin explained, “Sir Hugh was one of Richard’s knights who saved me from Bailiff Longthorn.”

“I see,” a surprised Guy said.

“Sir Robin, save King Richard. Only you can do this,” Hugh rasped. He gritted his teeth as a surge of pain passed through his chest.

“I will do everything for Richard,” Robin proclaimed. “The king will return home.”

“Thank you, Lord Huntingdon. Then I may die in peace,” Hugh whispered, his gaze sliding from Robin to Guy. “Sir Guy, I have always liked you. I knew that there is goodness in you even when others called you a monster.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Sir Hugh, I… I… ” Guy stammered. His heart was overwhelmed with emotions, and it was difficult to speak. “You will be alright. You will feel better soon.”

Hugh shuddered as a new wave of pain shot through him. “Never lie to a dying man.”

Guy and Robin saw blood seeping from the corner of Hugh’s mouth, comprehending that the arrow had pierced one of the old man’s lungs and his chances of survival were almost nonexistent. Hugh coughed, and then his whole body shook in violent coughs, the sound rattling from his chest.

Hugh squeezed Guy’s hand. “You suffered a lot, Sir Guy. Life was unfair to you.”

“Maybe.” Guy found the conversation strange.

Hugh looked between Guy and Robin. “Please take care of Megan. Don’t let the Black Knights kill her.”

Guy and Robin shared uneasy glances. Silently, they agreed that they wouldn’t reveal to the dying man that his daughter had been stabbed by Rotherham.

Guy had already made up his mind what to say to Hugh Bennet. “ _I promise that I will take care of Megan_ ,” he said, gazing into Hugh’s eyes. The images of Megan flashed in his mind with a stunning force, and it somehow made him more certain in his decision. “I will protect her from all dangers.”

“We will take care of your daughter,” Robin pledged.

Hugh smiled placidly. “Tell my dear Meg… that I love her. When I see her mother in heaven, I will tell her how beautiful, brave, and clever our daughter is.” He closed his eyes and drew his last breath.

“Sir Hugh …” Guy called.

“He is dead,” Robin murmured, bowing his head in respect to the deceased man. “He was a good and kind man. He was very loyal to England, and King Richard loved him. May his soul be at peace…”

“May he rest in peace,” Guy intoned.

§§§

Robin and Guy rose to their feet, still looking at Hugh Bennet’s corpse. They didn’t speak for a while, giving tribute to the murdered nobleman. The same thought went through the chaos of their brains – another good man was dead. It was the first time when they shared their grief over someone’s death.

Robin raised a quizzical brow. “Why did you promise Lord Hugh to protect Lady Megan? Do you really have this intention?”

Guy glanced at Robin. “I wanted Sir Hugh to die in peace. I spared him worry about Megan.”

Robin shook his head disapprovingly. “Gisborne, it is very serious. You cannot play with such things!”

Guy scowled at Robin. He had an impulse to punch Robin in the face, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt the man he had saved his life today. “I didn’t lie to Lord Hugh. I will protect Megan because she is a good, honest girl, and I don’t want her to be killed by the Black Knights.”

The muscle in Robin’s jaw twitched. They heard Robert’s urgent voice saying that they needed to go. Robin responded to Robert that he needed only a few moments with Guy in private. Then he glanced back at Guy, his gaze piercing Guy’s. “And what about Marian?”

Heat rose and flooded Guy’s cheeks. “My marriage to Marian was annulled.”

“I know.” Robin‘s eyes became clouded and unfocused as his mind flew to Marian, and he envisioned her confined to one of the chambers in the Tower, wondering how she was enduring the months of her captivity. He hurriedly banned thoughts of her before they became too painful.

“You always stood between Marian and me,” Guy admitted in a tight voice, his old enmity and anger towards Robin simmering in his blood as he thought of their old love triangle. “ _The shadow of the great Robin Hood stood between us when we were married_ , despite the fact that you were thousands of miles away from England.” He paused for an instant, lost in thought, as if considering how he should proceed, and then said, somewhat abruptly, “And nothing changed even after your death.”

A deplorable silence ensued, and then Robin’s very faint voice spoke. “I am sorry.”

Guy’s anger slackened, and he smiled glumly. “I don’t blame you.” His expression turned chagrined. “I was ready to do everything for Marian; to bring the world to her feet and to kill anyone for her.” He heaved a sigh. “But it was absolutely impossible to make her forget you.”

“I am sorry,” Robin repeated.

“Don’t be. It is not your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” A year ago, Robin would have rejoiced to hear that, but now he was more bewildered and amazed than thrilled, but his heart was full of bitterness mingled with regret.

“Why?” Guy was obviously surprised.

“I am a married man, and I have a son,” Robin offered an explanation.

Guy raised a brow. “A son?”

A dazzling smile blossomed on Robin’s face. “Yes. I named him Richard. I had spent a short time in Aquitaine and in my wife’s estates in Bordeaux before I returned to England.”

The raven-haired man smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Hmm,” Guy murmured. “Does that make you think that Marian has no place in your life?”

Robin cast his eyes down. “Marian means a lot to me, and I will always care for her… But I love my wife.” He trailed off, sighing deeply. “Don’t ask me this again.”

Guy’s world was centered on the realization that a fatal love triangle was finally untangled, provided that Robin wasn’t lying to him. “As you wish.”

“Gisborne,” Robin said evenly, looking back at the older man. “When we rescue Marian from Prince John and Lord Buckingham, you will have enough time to think about… your feelings and your future life. Don’t make decisions in haste. I don’t mind if the two of you get married.”

Guy sighed. “So many things happened. There is a great mess in my life and my head.”

“A complete mess.” Robin was thinking of his own confusion at the moment.

“The last months were not easy.”

“Not only for you, Gisborne.”

Guy eyed Robin from top to toe, wondering how Robin really felt after the battle. “Seems so.”

Robin and Guy glanced around and saw Carter and Robert standing nearby, while Archer and Tuck battled with Isabella’s guards to release Little John and Allan. Isabella wasn’t in the courtyard as she had already retreated to the castle, fearful for her life.

“We must leave,” Robin suggested.

Guy nodded in agreement. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Robin smiled slightly. “Freedom, Gisborne.”

Guy smiled back. “Such long-awaited freedom.”

Robin Hood and his friends won the battle. Robin and Guy began to walk away from the central square. Soon Guy and Robin were divided as Robert, Carter, and Archer surrounded Robin for his safety. Little John was carrying the unconscious Allan who was bleeding heavily. Guy was trailing behind the others, and Tuck was walking close to him, casting curious glances at him.

Soon they entered the labyrinth of narrow streets, where a crowd of the waiting people swarmed forth to greet their beloved hero. They cheered Robin, who nodded and smiled at them.

Robin slowed a little bit and approached John. “How are you, John?” he questioned.

Little John smiled slightly. “I am worried about Allan and happy to see you alive.”

“Allan will be fine,” Robin said hesitantly, staring with consternation on the ground. He wasn’t sure that he would forgive his father for injuring Allan.

John let out a deep sigh. “That hooded man shot him!”

“Allan won’t die,” Robin promised, but his voice lacked confidence. Then he remembered Much, and anxiety gripped his heart. “Where is Much? He is not here?”

“I cannot say where Much is now,” John responded apologetically; he shifted Allan in his arms, gently and cautiously, trying not to hurt the injured man.

“Why?” Robin inquired.

“We wanted to break Gisborne out of the dungeons, but we didn’t find him there. And Much was not himself after the events in Acre, mourning for you… Without you, he didn’t wish to stay with us.”

Robin‘s expression became befuddled. “Where did Much go? Did he say something?”

“Much went to find Eve.”

“I know where Much is now. I will find him by myself.” Robin understood why Much left the outlaws and Nottingham. He was surprised that his ever-loyal friend had tried to find Guy together with Allan and John, for Much must have hated Guy wholeheartedly to ever entertain thoughts of saving Guy. As Much must have seen his only consolation in finding Eve and starting a family with her, Robin mused.

“How are you, Robin?” John wanted to know, concerned. “How can you be alive?”

“Later, John.” Robin didn’t want to talk about his death.

They were slowly stalking through the streets of Nottingham, which were filled with crowds of people who gave Robin and Guy astonished glances, including those who hadn’t watched Guy’s execution and Robin’s resurrection. Rumor of Robin Hood’s return had already spread in the town, and many folks came out of their houses, lining the streets in an attempt to catch a glimpse of England’s greatest hero returning home cloaked in glory. Robin Hood’s grand appearance in Nottingham became a sensational event that would never fade away from the people’s memory.

The people were astounded to see Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne walking together without trying to kill each other. It was incredible to see the two of them fighting at one side against traitors to England.

Guy felt uncomfortable under so many prying eyes turning their attention to him all at once. He was embarrassed that he was unkempt and dirty, thinking that they all were laughing at him in their minds. But although he made a sorry enough figure of a prisoner who had been tortured and starved, there was still something imposing in him: despite being abnormally thin and looking truly squalid, he was muscular and tall, towering half a head above Robin, Archer, Robert, and Carter.

“How are you doing, Sir Guy?” Tuck asked as he appeared at Guy’s left.

“I am well,” Guy replied curtly, not looking at the friar.

Tuck eyed Guy with unhidden curiosity. Guy averted his eyes; he didn’t want to talk to Tuck.

“I am unnerving you, right?” Tuck wanted to know.

Guy turned his head to Tuck. “Why are you interested in me?” He had always been unnerved by churchmen, and the feeling became habitual after he had visited a church in the suburbs of Nottingham where a local priest had told him not to raise his sword against King Richard and Robin Hood.

Tuck smiled wryly. “Everyone is interested in Robin Hood and his sworn foe, Guy of Gisborne.”

“Robin and I are not enemies anymore,” Guy underscored.

“You don’t like me, do you?” Tuck pressed on, a small smile on his lips.

“Not you. All churchmen.” Guy hoped that Tuck would walk away after his words.

“It is a great pity,” Tuck said quietly. “Sir Robin doesn’t like me either.”

The monk’s last words awakened curiosity in Guy. “Really?”   

Tuck shrugged. “Lord Huntingdon hasn’t liked me since our meeting in Acre.”

Guy suppressed a smile. “Why doesn’t he like you?”

“Sir Robin doesn’t want to hear some truths about himself.”

Guy sighed. “What do you mean?”

“I told Sir Robin that he is more loyal to King Richard than to the people of Nottingham and England,” Tuck said with frustration apparent in his voice. “But Robin Hood is the savior of England, and only he may save the nation. He is a God’s warrior, and his place is with the people, not with the king.”

“Robin will never leave the king, even if he… disagrees with our liege’s decisions.” Guy agreed with Tuck, laughing at the monk who probably annoyed Robin with his preachments.

“Friar Tuck, I asked you not to harass Robin, already at least twice,” Archer interposed in the conversation as he emerged near them; he had overheard the chat between Guy and Tuck.

“I am not annoying Lord Huntingdon. I only want him to realize that–” Tuck was interrupted.

Archer directed a fierce glare at Tuck. “Don’t annoy Robin. He needs time to find his path in his new life. Your excessive piety unnerves Robin and, to be honest, everyone.”

Ignoring Archer, Tuck stared at Guy. “Sir Guy, if you need a confession, I am at your service.”

Guy gave Tuck a disgruntled glare. “Why do you think I need it?” His scowl deepened. “Or do you want to say that I need to confess my sins because I killed many innocents and tried to kill the king?” He sighed deeply. “And if I do that, will God absolve my sins? Do I have a chance for atonement?”

Guy was curious what the monk would say, but he still thought that there were many others, like Vaisey and Prince John, who needed spiritual nourishment more than he did. He preferred to find his way to redemption without anybody’s help as he himself was responsible for his choices and decisions.

Tuck looked abashed, for he didn’t expect such straightforwardness from Guy. “Well, I only meant that if you feel you that need my guidance, I am ready to give it to you.”

“Save your sermons for someone else!” Archer thundered.

“Friar Tuck, no confession will help me,” Guy remarked politely. “Even if I confess to murdering certain people, it won’t change anything. And then I will have to make another confession.”

Tuck frowned. “You want to say that you will kill again if you have to?”

Archer rolled his eyes. “Oh, bless my soul!”

Guy nodded. “Yes, if I have to save someone or myself.”

“This is not what Robin Hood does; he tries to save everyone,” Tuck concluded. “But this is what Guy of Gisborne does.”

“Friar Tuck, I am being serious,” Archer spoke in an exasperated voice. “Stop terrorizing us with your preachments.”

Tuck sighed and walked off, leaving Archer and Guy together. Nobody could have swayed the friar from his opinion – Robin needed his spiritual guidance and his help. The friar had no idea that Robin’s conscience would never allow him to leave the king due to the blood ties between him and his liege.

Guy smiled at Archer. “Thank you for saving me from this monk.”

“You are welcome, Guy of Gisborne,” Archer replied with an amicable smile.

“You are Prince John’s assassin,” Guy stated dryly.

Archer sighed. “It was a horrible mistake. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Guy eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want from me?”

Archer grinned. “Isn’t that great that Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne are finally on the same side?”

“And what difference does that make to you?” A deep frown marred Guy’s forehead.

Archer giggled. “There is only one Robin Hood and one Guy of Gisborne, although in this particular case we can say that you could have been Guy and you could have been Robin.”

“What do you mean?” Guy inquired, intrigued. “What do you know about us?”

Archer flashed an enigmatic smile. “You will learn in a due time.”

Guy looked into Archer’s eyes. A thought struck him, and he spoke briskly. “Archer, your eyes are of the same rare color as Robin’s – the pale blue eyes. You are related to the Huntingdons, don’t you?”

“I am Robin’s half-brother; we have the same father.”

“Malcolm of Locksley’s second son?” Guy’s brow furrowed at the thought that Malcolm had sired two illegitimate sons, but, definitely, he couldn’t tell Archer anything about that.

“Yes.” Archer sighed, then added, “Robin wanted to talk to you later.”

Guy laughed. “It is the reason why you wanted to kill Robin and sided with Prince John?”

“And what about your own wrongdoings, Gisborne?” Archer grinned waspishly. “It is hilarious that you reprimand me for my desire to kill Robin when you tried to kill him so many times and always failed.”

“Showing your temper, Archer?” Guy narrowed his eyes to slits at the younger man.

Archer glared at the older man and harrumphed. “Whatever I do is none of your concern.”

Guy smirked. “You resemble Robin in childhood. He always showed his stubbornness and righteousness when he was not right.” He let out a smile, his gaze fixing on Robin’s back; Robin was walking ahead of them, and they could see him very well. “Even now Robin often behaves in the same manner.”

Archer smiled. “Robin says we have a lot in common.”

“I think he is right.” Guy’s eyes were still fixed on Robin. “May I ask you another question?”

“Of course, Gisborne.”

“How did Robin survive?” There was a note of disbelief in Guy’s voice. “He died in Imuiz.”

“Yes, he died, and yet he didn’t.” Archer’s statement was simple and yet ambiguous.

“I am sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“It is a long story,” Archer murmured, feeling his heart skip a beat. It was still painful to remember Robin’s death in Imuiz and his role in the regicide attempt. He exhaled to calm himself and went on. “Robin died, but it was a temporary shutdown of his body: his heart didn’t beat for some time and he didn’t breath, but then he came back from the dead. The Saracens call it a semblance of death.”

“Then he was alive when he disappeared,” Guy surmised.

“Yes, he was.”

“I know that the guards, who had to deliver Robin to Acre, were very frightened of the approaching sandstorm. They left him and fled; later the king executed them.”

“Now I understand why Robin was lost. I asked myself this question many times over.”

“What happened next?”

“The horse, where Robin’s body was loaded, rode in the desert. I saw what happened, and I followed. And then we found ourselves in the heart of the sandstorm.” Another sigh followed. “We had many adventures before I finally delivered Robin, feverish and dying, to Saladin’s palace in Jerusalem.”

“You saved Robin’s life.”

“Yes, I did,” Archer said proudly. “I felt indebted to him because I tried to kill him and hated him.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “I still feel guilty that I hadn’t stopped Vaisey before the tragedy happened.”

Guy nodded grimly. “I blamed myself for Robin’s death as well.” He took a deep breath. “I murdered Vaisey for everyone whose life he destroyed, including for Robin.”

Archer glanced into Guy’s eyes, stunned to see the sincerity in their depths; he smiled cryptically. “Well, Robin has his own theory about Vaisey’s death. I suppose that he will tell you later.”

Guy’s face change into confusion. “What do you mean?”

Archer visibly tensed. “Ask Robin.”

“I will.”

Archer noticed that Guy winced in pain. “You are not feeling well.”

“I am fine,” Guy lied.

“Our great Saracen doctor will examine you,” Archer said seriously.

“I am fine,” Guy repeated; yet, he again winced at the painful sensations in his back.

Archer had an intelligent guess. “Were you flogged?”

Guy glanced away. “It is not your deal.”

“I recommend that you ask Djaq to check on you,” Archer insisted.

“I myself know what to do,” Guy grunted.

They had to thread the path through the crowd of cheering people who were welcoming Robin Hood and his friends in Nottingham. Having always loved to be in the center of attention, Robin and Robert walked ahead of everyone, smiling and handing them coins, which they had taken from some of Isabella’s defeated guards, to the peasants. Carter laughed and joked, saying that everyone should drink for the health of Robin Hood and his merry men who returned to save Nottingham.

As their approached the eastern gates of Nottingham, they found several horses there. Robin explained that they had taken the horses from the stables of Locksley before arriving in the courtyard; they had prepared for escape beforehand. They mounted, laughing and jesting, and rode towards Sherwood until they reached the edge of the forest, where they stopped and dismounted. They waited for a short time, and then several villagers from Locksley came, taking the horses back to the stables.

As they entered Sherwood Forest, Robin looked around, feeling awash in a beautiful sea of harmony and relief because he had returned to England and Nottingham. Despite the chilly spring weather, no wind was felt in the woods. Birches, oaks, meadows, and other trees with their small green leaves were motionless. Snows were melting, and first green grass pushed its way upward through the slush.

Robin looked up, at the sky; over the tops of the trees, clouds were swiftly sailing across the timeless sky like vast silver barges. He silently thanked the Lord that he was given a chance to survive and come back home – to England, to Nottingham, and to Sherwood. Yet, he didn’t feel that he was at home because something was different: the world was different, and he was different as well.

“I am happy to be here again. I wanted to go home so much,” Robin told Robert de Beaumont, one of the very few men who understood him very well and knew everything about his fears and insecurities. “For so long, I wondered why God spared my life, but now… I know why I survived.”

Robert smiled fondly at his best friend. “Robin, I told you that you would feel better once you see Sherwood.”

“You were correct, Robert.”

“Well, I know you too well.”

“You and I are alike in many ways,” Robin said, a vibrant smile hovering over his lips.

Robert’s lips curled in a grin. “We both are trouble makers.”

Robin laughed. He again raised his eyes heavenward, luxuriating in the brightness of the afternoon, which was comforting and soothing to him. He smiled, listening to the gentle murmur of trees and the sweet singing of birds. He looked around, feeling close to nature and to the happy moments of his childhood he had spent in Sherwood. The dense woodland lay spaciously before his eyes, and for a moment, he imagined that he was a boy who had fallen in love with the forest at first sight. Yet, all was versatile, and he had a prophetic feeling that nothing would ever be like it had been before.

Robert regarded Robin attentively. “You are relieved that you came home, but you feel that you are different from the old Robin. Is that so?” It was a statement rather than a question.

For a while, Robert and Robin walked in silence, ahead of the others; the others were following them. The silence continued until they reached the Great North Road and crossed it, heading to the eastern part of the forest, where the outlaws’ camp was located.

“You are right, Robert,” Robin spoke at last. “I am so close to my old life, but I don’t feel like myself anymore. Almost like something else has taken over me.” He swallowed nervously. “I have a constant battle with a voice in my head saying that gladsome minutes of my childhood are gone forever.”

“Or maybe all happy moments?” Robert lowered his voice.

Robin breathed out a sigh of frustration. “Yes.”

“You are disillusioned, Robin,” Robert inferred, his tone gentle, almost caressing. “I know how painful it can be when your dreams are shattered.”

Robin’s eyes gleamed like lightning. “I am trying to accept reality, but it is… difficult. I have no illusions left. Now I understand many things which I didn’t understand before.”

“I know what you mean. You will cope. You just need a little bit more time.”

“I hope so.” Robin flinched, feeling the nagging ache in his stomach; he was very tired.

“Robin, how are you?” Robert asked, moving closer to his best friend. “Is that what I think?”

Robin gave a nod. “Precisely.” In a moment, the pain passed, and he breathed easier.

Robert half turned his head and looked back. “Carter! Carter!”

Carter reached Robin in two strides and enfolded his left arm around his friend’s waist. Robert wrapped his arm around Robin’s back. They slowed their pace substantially, and now Robin’s weight was mostly supported by Robert and Carter as they kept walking. Robin accepted their help with a smile of gratitude, feeling weaker and clinging to the caring arms of his friends.

“Better?” Robert questioned anxiously.

“Yes,” Robin said with gratitude. But then he winced and drew a painful breath. “I just hope that Djaq still has some painkilling herbs; I need them today.”

“We will be at the camp soon.” Carter sighed, his eyes full of worry about his friend.

Still carrying Allan in his arms, Little John saw Robin being supported by Robert and Carter. John glanced at Archer, a silent question in his eyes. Archer only shrugged, dismissing all possible questions.

Guy looked at Archer, who was still walking next to him. “What is wrong with Robin, Archer?”

Archer gritted his teeth. “It is usual for Robin. He barely survived his grave wound, and he hasn’t recovered completely yet. It is only Vaisey’s fault that Robin has been suffering so much!”

“I understand.” Guy silently cursed himself for not killing his former master before the voyage to Acre.

The rest of the way was spent in silence. Everyone enjoyed the moment of quietude in the woods, knowing that it was a short break between battles.

§§§

Soon they reached the outlaws’ camp that was hidden in the depths of Sherwood Forest. Guy was greatly astonished that the camp was such a civilized place, so large and comfortable that there was a kitchen, a place that seemed to be a treasury, and sleeping quarters. The secret campground was so well hidden that Guy understood why he had failed to find Robin and his gang.

Rebecca and Kate of Locksley were waiting near the entrance to the camp. Friar Tuck stood near the two anxious women, whom he had accompanied to the forest, while Robin and the others had been fighting for their lives and freedom. Will and Djaq were also there; they didn’t return to the town because Megan was injured and Djaq was trying to save the lady’s life.

Robin stopped near Kate and Rebecca, Robert and Carter never leaving his side. Guy and Archer stopped nearby, waiting for Robin’s orders. Guy was curious how the young potter would treat him and whether she would confess to having betrayed him to Prince John and Isabella. Judging from Kate’s frightened look, he didn’t expect honesty from her.

Robin rewarded both women with a chilly glare, his eyes full of contempt mingled with ire. Having taken notice of the accusatory stares Guy gave Kate upon their arrival in the camp, he had guessed that Gisborne had been captured by Prince John’s guards due to Kate’s treachery. Fury clouded his mind, pulsing through him in heated waves, and he wished to banish Kate and Rebecca from Locksley; but he stopped himself and decided to wait before making a final decision.

“I was surprised to see you on the scaffold today,” Robin began, looking between Kate and Rebecca.

“Lord Robin, we want to thank you for saving our lives,” Kate said sincerely, smiling gratefully.

“Thank you, Master Robin,” Rebecca joined the conversation, offering her lord a small smile.

Robin threw his head back and laughed, surprising everyone. As he stopped laughing, he stared at Rebecca with a derisive smile. “Have I finally become a good man in your eyes? Do you still think that I am an arrogant and spoiled brat who deserted his people and ran to the absentee king? Have you stopped considering me a vagabond who created many problems with the sheriff for the villagers?”

Carter, Robert, and Archer smiled at Robin’s tirade. Guy smothered a laugh.

Rebecca’s eyes widened in shock, for she didn’t anticipate that Robin knew about her dislike of him and would put them in such an embarrassing situation; her face turned crimson. “We… we…” she stammered.

Kate’s cheeks were burning in shame. “Lord Robin, we never thought so about you.”

Robin’s features hardened. "Enough lies! Or do you think I don’t know what is happening in my lands and what people are talking about me?”

Her cheeks still crimson, Rebecca stifled a gasp. “We apologize if we offended you, Lord Huntingdon.”

“It is only your fault, mother!” Kate fumed. “I have always liked Robin Hood!”

"What are you talking about, Kate?" Rebecca raised a brow, and a frown creased her forehead. "How dare you accuse me, your own mother, of anything? Who gave you this right?”

“Stop arguing!” Robin raised his voice. “I don’t want to listen to your bickering.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” Rebecca muttered, albeit reluctantly.

“We are sorry, Lord Huntingdon,” Kate joined her mother in expressing the apologies to their lord.

“So far you both will stay here,” Robin said with authority. He cast a brief glance at Guy, then looked at Kate. “Kate, I know what you did to Gisborne. We will have to talk, but later, not today.”

Guy stared at Robin in shock, blinking. He didn’t understand how Robin could have learned about that, but he wasn’t astounded because Robin of Locksley was an unusual man.

Kate lowered her gaze, for fear gripped her entire being. Rebecca stared at Kate in incomprehension.

“Don’t be afraid, Kate. We will have a simple talk,” Robin said in a softer tone.

Little John carried Allan to the camp, intending to take care of the man while Djaq was tending to Megan’s wound. Robin and Archer shared troubled glances at the sight of Allan, which didn’t remain unnoticed by Guy. Kate was deeply concerned about Allan, her eyes following John’s large form that had disappeared inside the campground.

“Locksley,” Guy addressed his former archenemy, forgetting about Kate and her betrayal.

Robin turned to him. “What?”

“You said that Megan had been taken to the camp,” Guy continued in a tense tone. “Where is she?”

Robin eyed Guy with interest but asked nothing. “Inside the camp. Go there.”

Guy immediately headed to the sleeping quarters of the camp, where he discovered Djaq sitting on the edge of the bunk where Megan lay. Megan had already been undressed, now wearing an ankle-length tunic made out of blue silk, one of Djaq’s Arabic garments. Megan looked ghostly pale with her dark hair contrasting starkly with her skin and the white pillows and white sheets she was covered with.

“How is Megan? Is she alive?” Guy sank to one knee near the bunk. His face evolved into dreadful fear at the sight of Megan’s bloodless lips and her tightly shut eyes.

"She is alive.” Djaq surveyed Guy with undeniable curiosity in her eyes.

“Rotherham stabbed her in the left side because she tried to protect me.” Guy noticed that white sheets were blood-stained, and his heart thumped in fear.

Djaq stared into his eyes. “Is that why you are so worried about her, Gisborne?”

Guy gave the young Saracen a hard glare. “She protected me. She saved my life.”

She chuckled. “Is it the only reason?”

“Gisborne, Djaq has a rare talent to read people’s minds,” Robin threw over his shoulder as he slowly stalked to his old bunk, supported by Robert and Carter. “She can even read my mind.”

Carter and Robert helped Robin climb to the bed. Laughing, Robin reclined on a pillow. Archer trailed behind them, his expression worried as his gaze fell on Robin. They exchanged a couple of words with Robin and then strode towards the exit, intending to hunt and busy Kate and Rebecca, who waited outside with Tuck, with cooking dinner for all of them.

Djaq shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, lads.”

Guy requested, “Please tell me how Meg is.”

“Lady Megan was seriously wounded, but I think that she will live,” Djaq answered. “I had already tended to her wound. She passed out when we were in the courtyard, and I don’t think she will regain her consciousness at least until tomorrow.”

“Is Meg in danger?” Guy’s face was impassive, but the thin line of his lips revealed his inner tension.

Djaq smiled. “Lady Megan’s life is not in grave danger. She lost much blood and may contract a fever, but I am sure she should pull through. She is young and strong, and she will recover.”

Guy nodded, his eyes taking in Megan’s pale features. “She is very stubborn. She will live.”

“Djaq, you say she has a wound on her left side, right?” They heard Robin’s quiet voice.

“Yes, Robin. It is similar to your old wound on your side, but it is much less dangerous.” Djaq’s gaze flew to Guy, her eyes condemning him for what he had done to Robin in Acre over three years ago.

Guy quickly diverted his gaze, as though bitten by a snake. He wanted to forget the night when he had stabbed Robin cunningly, from the back, dreaming of the younger man’s death. Today he was immensely relieved to see Robin alive not only because the famous outlaw had saved his life, but also because he believed that Robin did really deserve to live a long, happy life in repayment for Robin’s sacrifices for England, the king, and the people. Guy was utterly ashamed of himself, and remorse penetrated his very soul – remorse for his attempts on Robin’s life, for his hatred towards his childhood nemesis, and even for taking Marian from Robin.

“Lady Megan’s injury is not as serious as my old wound was?” Robin needed another confirmation.

“She won’t die, will she?” In his extreme perturbation, in his loneliness, Guy craved reassurance that another person in his life he deeply cared for – Megan – wouldn't leave the world.

“Robin, your wound was nearly a fatal one, but it is not Lady Megan’s case,” Djaq told Robin. Then her gaze went to Gisborne. “Gisborne, she will be alright. Calm down.”

Robin felt a relief washing over him. “Thanks be to God.”

“Very well,” Guy mumbled in a carefully controlled voice. A warm radiance of happiness surged within him and enveloped his being at the thought that Megan would live.

“Djaq!” John’s urgent voice spoke. “If you finished tending to the lady’s injury, please help Allan.”

Djaq stood up from the bunk. “A moment.” She crossed the camp and knelt next to Allan’s bunk. As Malcolm’s arrow had injured Allan in the back, he now lay on his stomach, his back bare, with white sheets draped haphazardly across him. “Hang on, Allan. You must live. You still have many untold incredible stories to share with us. You cannot die because we will miss your bravado a lot.” She managed a dreary smile and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“May I help you?” John offered.

“I can help too, Djaq,” Will said as he stopped near Allan’s bunk, looking down at his injured friend.

“Will, prepare clean bandages and take the instruments from my medical beg,” Djaq instructed, gazing between Allan and John. “John, I need several bowls of fresh water.”

Will started searching for medical supplies in Djaq’s bag. John stormed out to fetch fresh water.

“How is Allan?” Robin’s anxious voice spoke.

Djaq unpacked several bottles from her medical bag. “Not very good.” There was something in her voice which made everyone shudder.

“Will he survive?" Guy's voice sounded lugubrious.

“Allan was grimly wounded,” Djaq informed them, looking at the clean bandages which Will handed to her. “Fortunately, the arrow missed his heart and vital organs. He has a slim chance to pull through.”

They sighed with some relief, although their chests heaved with tight emotions. Looking at Allan, Guy almost begged God to spare his friend’s life, a storm of turbulent emotions surging through his core. However, they didn’t know that Robin was going through a living hell at that very moment, praying that Allan wouldn’t die from the arrow wound caused by his own father.

During the next half an hour, a portentous silence reigned in the camp. Djaq was tending to Allan’s injury, assisted by Will and John who wordlessly obeyed her instructions.

Robin lay on his old bunk, his eyes shut; he was trying to fall asleep, using a break to rest a little bit. Yet, sleep wasn't coming to Robin, no matter how hard he tried. Guy sat on the edge of Megan’s bunk, holding her hand and watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, indicating that she was alive.

After she had finished cleaning Allan’s wound, Djaq bandaged it. “I have done everything I could for Allan. But his condition is very bad,” she said mournfully. "He lost much blood, and he is already burning with a fever. Infection may take his life.”

“He won’t die,” Will whispered as he walked over to Allan’s bunk. He knelt and took his friend’s hand in his.

“It is awful,” Little John said under his breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Guy murmured, his gaze flickering between Megan and Allan, and his heart constricted in his chest at the thought that he could lose both of them.

Djaq turned her gaze to Robin. “Robin, you know very well that your condition was much worse than Allan’s, but you fought for your life and you survived.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. She glanced back at Allan."We can only hope that Allan will fight as relentlessly as Robin did.”

“I hope so.” Robin desperately hoped that Allan would live.

In a minute, Will and Little John walked out of the camp, leaving Djaq, Robin, and Guy alone.

Djaq approached Guy. “Gisborne, remove your rags. I want to examine you.”

“Thank you, but I don’t need it,” Guy grumbled, not wishing anyone to see the proof of his humiliation in the dungeons.

Djaq rolled her eyes at him. She was going to admonish him about his way of dealing with his health problems. “Gisborne, if you need our help, you simply need to ask. If you were tortured by Lady Isabella’s men, then you definitely need medical help.”

Guy gazed away, hiding his vulnerability and bitterness in his troubled gaze. “Megan helped me after… I was tortured by the Baron of Rotherham. If she… hadn’t helped me, I would have died.”

Djaq smiled. “Then she wouldn’t want you to reject our help.”

Robin couldn’t resist being sarcastic. “Gisborne, it is childish to reject help when you need it so much.”

Guy’s temper spiked a notch. “Don't call me childish, Locksley!” he snarled. “It is you, not me, who has always been so mischievous that you often seem childish and flippant!”

Robin sighed. “Please, don’t tell me that I need to grow up, Gisborne.” Such advises always reminded him of Marian’s trademark barbs, and it was not what he wanted to remember at that moment.

“Gisborne, stand up and move to an empty bunk in the corner,” Djaq said in a voice that left no room for objection; it was a command from a physician to her patient. She put a bowl of fresh water on the ground, near the bunk, waiting for Guy to come there.

Guy climbed to his feet, feeling his legs wobble slightly. His body felt weak and out of energy as he walked to the part of the camp where Djaq had showed him. On the bunk, he saw Little John’s things and paused. His first thought was that the giant would hit him with the wooden staff if the man saw him on his bed, and he stepped aside, hesitating. But Djaq motioned him to sit down on the bunk.

Guy landed on the bunk and stretched his long legs as far as he could, cursing in his mind that there was so little space in the inner quarters of the outlaws’ camp. He removed his shirt, observing Robin out of the corner of his eye and hoping that the younger man wouldn’t look at his injured back.

As Djaq glanced at Gisborne’s back, her heart skipped a beat. She thought that she was going to be sick at the sight of countless welts on Guy’s back, some of them already healed and some still healing and red. Gisborne had been brutally tortured at least twice, and she suspected that the last torture had happened not more than a month ago, for too many welts and scars were still raw.

“Don’t move while I am working to avoid pain.” Djaq put a cloth on his back. “Did you have a fever?”

“I was feverish for about two weeks, perhaps more,” Guy replied hoarsely. “Meg knows better.”

Djaq glided the cloth down his back, noting the muscular structure dotted with the welts. “When did the fever break?”

“Several days ago.” Guy winced at a new touch of the cloth to his back.

A sigh was heard, and Robin commented, "Yeah, I cannot say that I am astonished. Isabella is capable of doing everything to those whom she hates, although I have no idea why she hates her own brother.”

Guy laughed humorlessly. “Do you really want to know why she wants me dead, Locksley?”

Rising on his elbow and casting an odd glance at Guy, Robin said neutrally, “I am not sure I want this.”

An ironic smile quirked in the corner of Guy’s mouth. “You won’t understand if I tell you.”

Robin didn’t respond and lay back on the bed. He didn’t want to argue with Gisborne.

Djaq pitied Guy a lot, who winced every time the cloth touched the damaged skin of his back. “Gisborne, I know that it hurts, but I must clean these welts before you take a bath.”

Guy was grateful to her. “Thank you.”

During the next hour, silence reigned in the outlaws’ camp. Robin lay still, his eyes closed, looking as if he might be asleep. Djaq continued tending to Guy’s healing welts, and all of her ministrations were cautious. As she finished her work, she discovered an ugly and jagged scar on Guy’s left side, which mirrored Robin’s ugly scar from the wound Guy had inflicted on him during the Saracen attack in Acre.

Djaq traced Guy’s scar with her fingers. “This scar is still rather raw, although the wound healed well. You were stabbed not more than four months ago.”

Guy grasped her hands in a vise grip. “Don’t touch me here.”

“Don’t overreact, Gisborne,” Djaq recommended calmly. As he relinquished her and took a step aside, she surveyed him from crown to toe, her face impenetrable. “I am a physician, not a girl whom you want to woo. Or has the fever muddled your mind?”

“I am sorry,” Gisborne said. He expected Robin to burst into an angry tirade, but the hero was quiet. Robin’s eyes were closed, and Guy thought that he had probably fallen asleep.

“Put on your clothes,” Djaq instructed. “After you take a bath, I will tend to your welts again.”

Guy obeyed Djaq, but he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he thought. Soon he was again sitting on the edge of Megan’s bed, thinking of the girl who was his angel of salvation in the darkest moments of his life. But then his expression hardened as his eyes flew to Allan. “That strange man who shot Allan… I wonder who he was. He was so eager to kill Allan!”

Robin shifted on his bunk, and it creaked as he tried to get comfortable. “We will talk later, Gisborne.” He had slept only for a short time, but nightmares had awoken him.

Guy measured Robin with a suspicious glance. “Of course.”

John and Will entered the sleeping quarters and headed to Allan’s bed; their faces were worried. Will looked periodically towards Guy, whom he didn’t want to be near Djaq and anyone else, but it seemed that they would have to tolerate Gisborne’s presence because Robin had asked them about that.

“Allan was so brave today,” John said as he stopped near Allan’s bunk.

“Poor Allan,” Will lamented. He struggled to stay calm, but all that he wanted was to take a dagger and plunge it into Guy’s heart.

“Allan wanted to save my life,” Guy assumed.

John’s eyes met Guy’s, and John enlightened, “Yes, Allan wanted to find you, Gisborne. We were in the dungeons three times, but you were not there.” He paused, thinking how to proceed. “We knew that Marian was apprehended, but Prince John and his party departed from Nottingham.”

Will clenched his fists, displeased that Allan and John had tried to save Gisborne. Djaq’s pleading look kept him from interfering; he focused his attention on Allan, silently praying for his friend. Maybe Robin had forgiven Guy for his marriage to Marian and for other crimes, but Will would never forgive Vaisey’s former henchman for the harm caused to his family.

“You wouldn’t have found me,” Guy responded, still staring at Megan’s pale face. He couldn’t look away from her. “They threw me in the underground dungeons.”

Robin arched a brow. “I didn’t know such dungeons exist.”

“Vaisey built them to protect his wealth from you and your gang,” Guy elucidated, his lips quirking in a smile. “Vaisey called them the underground hell.”

“What a great name!” Robin stifled a yawn. He lowered his head and looked at his belly, again feeling his scar throb painfully under his shirt. “Vaisey was an evil poet of Nottingham,” he mocked.

“A demon,” Guy corrected.

“Yes,” Robin agreed. He didn’t wish to speak about the sheriff because he didn’t believe that the man was really dead.

“Ha!” Will roared. “It is funny that you, Gisborne, say this about your master!”

“Will, please!” Djaq approached him and put a hand on the carpenter’s shoulder. “Not now!”

“Vaisey is not my master anymore,” Guy hissed.

“Enough!” Robin ended the argument. “Gisborne is not Vaisey’s man anymore! Remember this!”

When Robin finished, they nodded at him, although Will remained silent. Guy was quiet, not knowing whether or not he should express his gratitude to Robin.

A long silence stretched between them, punctuated by the twittering of birds in the woods and the distant voices of Kate, Rebecca, and Tuck who were staying outside.

“I am sorry that we didn’t protect Marian from Prince John,” John broke the silence, speaking through the tightness in his throat, his eyes flickering between Robin and Guy.

Robin didn’t blame John for anything. “John, you would have been unable to deal with hundreds of Prince John’s men from his elite guard. You couldn’t have saved Marian!”

“But we will save Marian?” Guy looked deeply troubled.

“Sure. I already have half a plan,” Robin retorted in a light tone.

Guy smiled slightly. “I hope it won’t kill all of us.”

“Of course not.” Robin looked serious. His gaze flew to Little John. “Robert and Carter are preparing everything for our departure in the early morning. Djaq needs to stay here with Lady Megan and Allan. Tuck is with Rebecca and Kate. Much is away, and I am planning to find him very soon.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “But there is something else we have to do…”

John tore his gaze from Allan and looked at Robin. “What, Robin?”

Robin remembered his conversation with the dying Hugh, and his heart squeezed in his chest. “Lady Megan’s father, Lord Hugh Bennet, was killed today.” He sighed sorrowfully. “John and Will, go to Nottingham and collect Lord Hugh’s body. We will bury him.”

Guy’s heart began to thud frantically in his chest as he recalled what he had promised to Megan’s father. “Lord Hugh should be put to rest with honor,” he whispered.

Will and Little John nodded. “We go to Nottingham,” they said in unison.

“Yes. Be careful please,” Robin requested. They had to avoid skirmishes and accidents in the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter’s title reflects sensational events taking place after Robin’s miraculous return – Robin and his friends rescue Guy, Megan, and the two potter women from Locksley, and fight for their freedom.
> 
> Robin Hood has come back from the dead in triumph, cloaked in glory! Robin and his friends won the battle in Nottingham. Guy and Megan, as well as Kate and Rebecca were rescued.
> 
> The first two chapters were the set-up was for Robin’s fight against Prince John and the Black Knights, which is going to be bloody and fierce. Robin won’t win every battle with the prince – he cannot always win! Unfortunately, not everything will go well for him and his friends.
> 
> Robin will lead the fight against John because he is King Richard’s secret half-brother, the king’s right-hand man, a great leader, and an accomplished military commander – he is closer to King Richard than anyone else. No man is more loyal to Richard the Lionheart than Robin; Robert de Beaumont, a real historical personality and the Lionheart’s favorite, is also staunchly loyal to the king. Robin will be assisted by Guy, Archer, and others, and he will need their help to win and bring Richard home. If you were attentive, you probably noticed that Robin doesn’t feel well during and after the battle; he hasn’t recovered completely yet, and the unusually cold spring aggravated his still-fragile health, and his ignorance of his health problems will play a bad joke with Robin soon, in chapter 6 (a small spoiler!).
> 
> In the next chapters, Robin will accept Guy as one of his men despite protests of some of his friends. However, Guy won’t be a leader of the fight against Prince John, as some of Guy fans probably want, because the canonical Guy is a follower, not a leader, and he doesn’t have Robin’s military experience and leadership qualities. Guy is a good fighter and an expert swordsman, but he is not Robin, which was proved almost in every episode in the show. Strictly speaking, the battle for the king’s return is not Guy’s but Robin’s fight. Guy doesn’t love and is not close to King Richard, but he will remain loyal to his liege because he knows the secret of his true parentage and because he feels obliged to Richard for a royal pardon. Therefore, Guy will join Robin in the battle against the king’s enemies, and they will become allies, but don’t expect that Robin will begin to trust Guy straight away.
> 
> I hope that you loved the Guy/Meg scenes in this chapter, which were dramatic and emotional. Like in the show, Megan was wounded protecting Guy, but in this story she was stabbed by the Baron of Rotherham when the vile man tried to murder Guy. She loves Guy, and she acted on impulse when she saw Rotherham lunge at Gisborne. Please don’t worry, I am not going to kill off Megan, but she will be incapacitated in the next few chapters.
> 
> I hope that it pleased you that Guy avenged Megan’s wound and his torture at the hands of Rotherham – he murdered the baron! From the beginning, I was planning to have Guy kill Rotherham in combat because it is fair if he kills the man who put him to the rack, all the more one of the Black Knights, which is symbolizes Guy’s break with the past. Guy is no longer a traitor to England and the king.
> 
> Isabella wants Guy dead because she cannot forgive him for selling her to Squire Thornton. But she does have conscience because she regrets that Robin was wounded; she is relieved that Robin is alive, and she straightforwardly tells Little John this. Maybe there is a chance for her to redeem herself?
> 
> I suspect that some readers are concerned about Allan who was shot by Malcolm in a fit of mad rage. Rest assured that Allan will survive his wound, but he will be feverish and sick for some time. Yet, I want to give you a fair warning that I cannot guarantee the survival of every outlaw in this part of the story. Some of Robin’s friends and those who are close to him will die during the fierce fight for peace; there are several deaths before and in the stunning finale of the trilogy – the siege of Nottingham.
> 
> I introduced Malcolm in chapter 1, and I think that you are interested in Robin’s future conversation with Malcolm. I will satisfy your curiosity: the next chapter is called “Bad Blood”, where Robin, Guy, and Archer meet with Malcolm in the woods, and some more truths are revealed.
> 
> Marian reappears in chapter 5, where she will face both Robin and Guy. It will be grand drama between Robin, Marian, and Melisende, as well as between Marian, Guy, and Megan!


	3. Bad Blood

**Chapter 3**

**Bad Blood**

Guy and Robin stared after Will and Little John who were walking away from the camp, disappearing in the woods. Only Robin, Guy, and Djaq, as well as Megan and Allan remained in the outlaws’ sleeping quarters. Djaq busied herself with taking care of Allan, and she did that amazingly. Allan was unconscious and pale, and her hands trembled as she touched him, tears pouring down her cheeks.

Guy turned his gaze to Robin, his gaze intensive and inquisitive as he scrutinized his former sworn foe. Robin smiled ever so slightly and sent Guy a long, ambiguous look, his face impenetrable, his cool silence more effective than any word – he was waiting for Guy to speak first.

“Locksley, I want to thank you for saving our lives today,” Guy began after a long pause.

“You are welcome, Gisborne,” Robin replied somewhat indifferently, closing his eyes.

“Thank you for asking King Richard to pardon me,” Guy continued, wishing Robin to open his eyes and look at him. “I know that I committed grave crimes. It was wrong of me to attempt regicide, and I do regret… that I went to the Holy Land twice. I do regret stabbing you in the Saracen attack.”

Robin’s sarcastic laughter was the response to Guy’s frankness. “You sound like an honorable man, Gisborne,” he taunted, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Once you were generous enough to enlighten me about your feelings for King Richard. You told me that you had loathed the king and considered him a burden for England.” He let out a sardonic laugh again. “You traveled to Acre, contacted Vaisey’s Muslim allies there, and together you attacked the Crusaders’ camp. You dishonorably stabbed me from the back and ran to the king’s tent. But I stopped you in spite of being wounded a few moments before.” He sighed. “Then you went to Acre again, allowing Vaisey to drag shackled Marian and Isabella with you. You tried to kill the king but stopped at the very last moment.”

Guy was searching for the right words. Robin’s scathing sarcasm was insulting, and it was coming off as arrogance as well. "I tried to kill the king for power and wealth. My loyalty was misplaced," he acknowledged reluctantly, feeling angry with Robin for reminding him of his mistakes. "After I… stabbed you and then hastened to the king's tent, I hesitated for a brief moment, standing above the king's body. I wasn’t sure I could kill Richard; something prevented me from striking a final blow. If I hadn't hesitated, you wouldn't have become the king's savior that night."

Finally, Robin’s eyes flung open. He stared at Guy, his expression emotionless, but his eyes shone with the familiar audacious and sarcastic light which usually was a sign of him planning a devastating verbal assault directed at someone whom he didn't like. “What a wonderful confession, Gisborne! I begin to think that you might be a bit under the weather. But at least now I might be more relaxed because I know that no squad of armed soldiers, headed by you, will be arriving in the woods to capture me and my men in the middle of the night." He chuckled loftily. "Yeah, really, I should start to appreciate your frankness, I think! What a pity that we don’t have a priest here!” He grinned. “Should we call Tuck here? I think that he will be pleased to see you more than me, for I don’t like him a bit.”

“Robin,” Djaq called, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Locksley, I don’t care about your opinion,” Guy snapped wrathfully.

Robin sniggered. “Gisborne, do you want to deprive me of an opportunity to mock you? You know that I relish in mischief; I always tease and mock my enemies.”

“Not only your enemies, Robin,” Djaq remarked.

Robin laughed and agreed, “Indeed!”

“You are too mischievous,” Guy grouched.

Robin pushed back a few strands of hair from his forehead. He was feeling weary and drained, and his abdominal muscles hurt, his scar again throbbed painfully. “Gisborne, I misjudged you,” he said in a personal manner, his tone amicable, without a touch of his ordinary sarcasm. “I know that you are not heartless. Marian was right that there is good in you, but I didn’t want to see it for a long time.”

Guy was silent, staring at Robin, as if measuring the truth of the other man’s words. “Should I perceive it as one of your mischievous tricks, extreme exaggerations, or poisonous jokes?”

“Absolutely not,” Robin responded. “I see now that you are not as evil as I thought. I wish you no harm, and I don’t hate you; I am glad that we are no longer… enemies.” With a deep sigh, he shut his eyes again. He carefully moved on the bunk and winced, again feeling pain; to his chagrin, he had to admit that the battle in Nottingham definitely had a toll on him.

For one long, breathless moment, Guy was silent, pondering over Robin’s speech. Then he spoke in quite a light voice. “It is really good that this hatred… is gone.”

“I asked the king to pardon you because I wanted to… make up for the unfair things which were done to you and your sister in childhood,” Robin explained his actions.

Guy laughed ironically. “Of course, you did that not out of love for me.”

Robin opened his eyes and grinned, staring at Guy. “Definitely, not.”

“You said that you are departing to London with your friends tomorrow,” Guy broached another subject.

“It is true.” Robin sighed deeply. “Marian and my friend, Roger de Lacy, are kept hostage in the Tower of London, and I am going to rescue them. My friends and I will have to stop Prince John’s coronation.”

Guy was quiet for a moment as he contemplated his options. He could stay in Nottingham, or go to the continent and wait there until the king’s return, or join Robin in the fight against Prince John. His mind flew to Marian, and his heart skipped a beat. He had to help Robin save Marian, even if she was no longer his wife! When Marian would be rescued, he would be able to take her away from England until the king’s return. In the next moment, the memory of Robin asking King Richard to spare his life and pardon entered Guy’s mind; he couldn’t deny that he owed Robin his life. Guy decided to forget all of the existing selfish options as he found himself willing to fight against Prince John. He felt obliged to help Robin defeat John and keep the pretender from overthrowing Richard.

“I want to accompany you to London,” Guy voiced his thoughts.

Robin chuckled, obviously amused. “Already ready to leave Lady Megan, Gisborne?”

“I… I…” Guy stammered. He looked around, his eyes darted between an unconscious Megan and Robin.

“Gisborne, you can go to London with Robin. I am staying here because Lady Megan and Allan need me,” Djaq’s voice resonated. “I will take care of them.”

“Very well,” Robin said.

Guy asked with concern, “Will Meg be alright if I leave?”

Djaq chuckled. “Lady Megan’s condition doesn’t depend on your presence here, Gisborne. I have already said that she will recover; she needs rest and treatment.”

“Then I will go,” Guy announced.

“If you wish, Gisborne,” Robin said absently. “I will be grateful for your help.”

“What are we going to do? What is your plan, Locksley?” Guy turned his head to Megan, silently asking her to pardon him for leaving her. But Megan loathed Prince John and was loyal to King Richard, and he was sure that she would approve of his decision to stop the coronation of the usurper. After all, Megan was fiercely loyal to Queen Eleanor and King Richard, and his decision would please her.

“Now you need to make yourself presentable, Gisborne,” Robin stated in a half-commanding, half-mocking tone. “Stand up and take clean garments and clothes in the trunk near Allan’s bed.”

Guy sighed uncomfortably. “These clothes might not fit me.”

Robin decided to enlighten him. “Before we came to Nottingham, I paid a short visit to Locksley Manor. I found what I needed – my own old clothes and some of your old clothes which you forgot in my house after I had been pardoned and you had relocated to the castle.” He snickered. “Gisborne, I hope that you don’t object to wearing black again.”

“I don’t mind,” Guy answered. But wearing black would remind him of Vaisey, and he hated that.

Robin’s eyes twinkled. “Then ask Tuck to… cut your hair,” he murmured.

“Then I will examine you again, Gisborne,” Djaq interjected. “I tend to the welts on your back again after you take a bath.”

“I am growing impatient to do that,” Guy said.

Robin laughed softly, thinking that his former adversary wouldn’t appreciate his words. He sympathized with Guy because the older man had suffered a lot in prison, but he liked to mock and jeer at Guy and their conversations. “Make your choice, Gisborne. If you really want to help me save Marian and the king, then you have to take care of yourself, including looking more or less presentable and be healthy enough to fight,” he said flatly, a lazy smile hovering over his lips; he wasn’t looking at Guy. “I am not going to travel to London in the company of a man with an overgrown beard and greasy hair.”

Guy gasped in shocked amazement that Robin had just dared say that. His eyes narrowed to slits as fury worked its way up inside of him to the surface. God, Robin Hood was infuriating and intolerable, he mused. “You arrogant bastard, I know that you are enjoying your superiority over me!”

“You are an easy target for a tease,” Robin said innocently.

“You are an arrogant and spoiled brat! You will never change!” Guy fumed. “You are always a hero, and I am always a villain! You are a lucky and charming victor, and I am an unfortunate and wretched loser! Is that what you are trying to communicate, Lord Huntingdon, or how should I address you?”

Robin knew that he had crossed a line, but his desire to injure Gisborne’s pride overweighed his tact. He didn’t like Gisborne and didn’t respect the man. He scoffed and let vitriol spill out of him. “Lord Gisborne, if you think that I am an arrogant and spoiled brat, then you are a greedy, ambitious, and cynical thug!” he exclaimed. “It might be insensitive of me to hurt your feelings, but I stated the facts. For a moment, I have forgotten that you have a heart, which I used to consider an entirely black one. I still tend to treat you more like an immoral bastard and a heartless whoreson than like a good man.”

“Robin! Stop!” Djaq cried out, her voice sharp. “What are you doing? You started this quarrel!”

Guy jumped to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his waist; but he was unarmed, and he couldn’t just unsheathe his sword and attack Robin. All his joyful thoughts of Robin’s survival evaporated from his mind. “Hood, don’t make me feel bad that you are alive!”

Ignoring Djaq’s appeal, Robin challenged Guy. “Do you want to kill me, Gisborne?”

Djaq came to Guy and put her hand on his shoulder, preventing him from rushing to Robin’s bunk in a fit of rage. “Enough!” she shouted. “You are not children! Your squabbles are stupid and petty!”

Robin pressed his lips together in defiance as he looked between Guy and Djaq. “Djaq, it is difficult for me to simply forget what Gisborne and the sheriff did to me.”

“You are not a saint, Robin Hood,” an enraged Guy fired.

Robin’s temper cooled off, and he felt ashamed of his outburst. “And I don’t pretend that I am.”

“Neither of the two of you is a saint. You both are not perfect. But, overall, Robin is a better man, and I am sure, Gisborne knows this,” Djaq interposed as she took a step from Guy. “It is a new experience for you both to work together and be on the same side.” Her gaze flew to Robin. “I know that you, Robin, are tempted to go at Gisborne too hard. Gisborne tried to kill you many times, and he wronged you terribly.” She tore her gaze from Robin and glanced at Guy. “Gisborne, you know all of your transgressions, and you have to understand how difficult for Robin this alliance is.”

“It is difficult not only for Locksley,” Guy barked. “Besides, he also wronged me.”

Robin had the decency to say, “I did, and I am sorry for that.”

Djaq nodded. “It is not easy for both of you.” She flicked her gaze to Robin. “Robin, I understand you, but I don’t condone your behavior. You must stop if you want this alliance to work.”

Robin frowned, knowing that his Saracen friend had made valid points. “I do apologize.”

Guy’s anger slackened, and he smiled sadly. “Many years ago, I was a target for many of Locksley’s pranks. The young heir to a rich earldom thought that it was acceptable to have fun at my expense. My father was just one of the many vassals of his father, and I had to tolerate his misbehavior.”

“It is true,” Robin admitted, albeit reluctantly. “Yet, Gisborne, I always saw you as a human being, and I never humiliated you deliberately. I was spoiled and loved having a great fun.” He smiled slightly. “You resented me for my penchant to always have my own way and enjoy mischief.” He sighed. “But I ceased viewing you as a good young man... after the fire at Gisborne Manor.”

That hit a sore spot, and Guy’s chest heaved with emotional pain. “I don’t want to talk about the fire!”

Seeing that Guy wasn’t going to do anything stupid, Djaq returned to Allan’s bunk and settled herself there, taking the hand of the wounded man in hers. Guy walked to Megan’s bunk and landed on the edge, taking her hand in his; his heart burned within him at the sight of her ghostly pale face.

Robin released a sigh. “And you will have to. Today.”

Guy looked at Robin, and a frown of distress creased his forehead. “What?”

“Later,” Robin said dismissively. “Gisborne, we talked about you joining me in our fight against Prince John,” he jumped to another topic. “If we become allies, you must obey me and always report everything you do or intend to do to me. You are a highly skilled warrior, and you know that there can be only one commander in battle; otherwise this battle is doomed to fail. The commanders are Robert de Beaumont and me; we both are Richard’s most loyal men and trusted advisers, and it is our fight.”

Guy was biting his bottom lip. “Fine, Locksley,” he acquiesced.

“I doubt that we will ever become friends, Gisborne, for there is _too much bad blood between us_ ,” Robin continued in a serious tone. “It is of no matter to me whether you like or respect me. I only ask you to be civil with me and loyal to King Richard, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Only if you promise to be civil with me,” Guy shot back, his eyes fixed on Robin. “If all I get will be you cursing and mocking me, then I will respond in the same manner.”

“I will be civil; I will try,” Robin promised, grinning. “But I like mocking you, Gisborne!”

“Then you have a truce,” Djaq joined their conversation.

Robin turned to Djaq, smiling. “Seems so.”

Guy looked down, at his hand wrapped around Megan’s wrist. “Something else, Locksley?” he asked uneasily.

Robin swung his gaze to Guy. “One thing, Gisborne.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I want you to know that I am not trying to humiliate you, like the sheriff regularly did. I ask you to follow my orders not because I consider you an incompetent soldier, but because I have much more military experience than you. It might sound arrogant of me, but I have to say that I am good at strategic planning and at inventing clever schemes, although I might be hotheaded and reckless. I headed King Richard’s private guard for about five years, and I didn’t receive this position only thanks to the royal favor I have.”

Guy nodded. “Thank you.” He was truly grateful for the explanation.

Robin pulled himself into a sitting position on his bunk; then he stared at Guy fixedly. “What happened in Imuiz was a tragic coincidence.” He sighed. “There was no way I could fight with the sheriff – I had no time because Vaisey was advancing at the wounded king. I could do only one thing to save the king – to place myself between Vaisey and the king.”

“I know,” Guy murmured.

Robin and Guy stared at each other in silence. Neither of them wanted to remember the events in Acre, although it was much more painful and heartbreaking for Robin than for Guy.

Some deep emotion flashed in Robin’s eyes that turned blank in a split second. “And I knew that, most likely, I would die when I made this decision. I was ready to die for Richard, and I will give my life for him again if I have to.”

 “I believe you, Locksley. You couldn’t have allowed Vaisey to kill the king, especially because–” He broke off, looking at Djaq.

Robin let out a small laugh. “Djaq knows the truth. I was very talkative in my fevered dreams.”

Djaq lifted her eyes from Allan’s face and looked in Robin’s direction. “Your secret is safe with me, Robin. I didn’t say anything even to Will.”

Robin smiled at her. “I know.”

Djaq rose to her feet, approached Robin, and landed on the edge of his bunk, next to her friend. “You know that I will never do anything to hurt you, Robin.” She sighed. “I understand how serious it is, especially given how much blood might be spilled the truth comes out in the open.”

“I trust you with my life, Djaq,” Robin said with an affectionate smile on his face.

Djaq smiled back at him. “And so do I, Robin.”

Robin tore his gaze from Djaq and gazed at Guy. “If nobles learn the truth… about my true lineage, war for succession might begin in England. The legitimacy of King Henry and Queen Eleanor’s children  must never be questionable.”

Guy gave a nod of understanding, feeling the pressure of the secret Robin had carried on his shoulders. “Locksley, I promised the king that I would never tell anybody about it. I will keep my word.”

There was some kind of fierceness on Robin’s face as he spoke. “Gisborne, when I asked the king to reveal to you the truth, I knew that he would explain to you everything. If you divulge the secret, Richard will just kill you, like he killed everyone who could talk.” He turned his gaze at Djaq. “Djaq, you must keep this secret as well because if… he learns that you know it, I will be unable to protect you from… Richard; he won’t take additional risks.”

Djaq nodded. “I am well aware of the risks, Robin. No worries.”

“I am not a fool! I know that I can say and what I cannot,” Guy assured them, slightly offended. He closed his eyes, fortifying himself to remain composed. “After all, I witnessed how Bridget and Thornton were killed at Locksley Manor. I think that Richard’s spies were there.”

Robin drew in a wheezing breath, suddenly distressed, as suspicions crept into his mind. “I have heard about their deaths when I was in Locksley today.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Richard’s spies are not related to the matter.” He was sure that Malcolm had killed them.

“What?” Guy gasped in amazement. “Who killed Thornton and Bridget? Villagers accuse me of their murder, but I didn’t shoot them!”

Robin schooled his features into a mask of fake composure which he could wear so proficiently. “Gisborne, get up and go clean up yourself.” He let out a tired sigh. “I will take some rest. I need it.”

Although he wished to continue their conversation, Guy wordlessly nodded. He gave Megan’s hand a quick squeeze, as if he needed it to reassure himself that she was alive. Then he abruptly stood up and headed to the trunk that contained clothes, as Robin had mentioned a few minutes ago. He was pleased to find his old things; he also took a wide cotton cloth to have a bath, which Robin had also brought from Locksley Manor to the outlaws’ camp.

Guy found Tuck, Kate, and Rebecca outside the sleeping quarters, sitting around the fire; others was still absent. As he knew the forest quite well, Guy headed to his destination, covering the way to one of the numerous streams in Sherwood in half an hour. He knew one wonderful stream in the depths of the forest, where he had often come to swim in childhood and boyhood. He couldn’t wait to bathe and change his rags for his decent clothing.

Soon Guy stood completely naked on the bank of a pretty, lily-padded stream, looking into the deep and dark water. Now, in the propitiatory silence of the early afternoon, it would be so pleasant and refreshing to bathe, he thought. He dove into the stream and soon came out from under the water, a gorgeous mane of his long, raven, wet hair enveloping his head entirely, falling down his face like a dark curtain; he pushed his hair back, thinking that he had to cut it as soon as possible.

Guy spent a long time in the water, luxuriating in the coolness and freshness of water flowing around him. It was close to the dusk when he climbed from the water and hurried to take a large cloth from the bag which he had brought from the camp. As he mopped his thin body with the cloth, he quickly put on his underwear, his trousers, his shirt, and finally his black leather jerkin, feeling chagrined that he had lost so much weight during his imprisonment as clothing was too large for in his chest and hips.

Guy sat down on the bank, and then stared into the deep waters of the stream. His back was hurting, for there were still too many still-healing welts there; he really needed Djaq’s help. He remembered this place so well: he had found it together with Isabella when once they had wandered in the forest, strolling alone because they had tried to stay away from other children, who had never liked the young offspring of Lady Ghislaine of Gisborne, a Norman widow and an outsider among the Saxon community.

Guy found himself enjoying the silence and beauty of greenwood and the twittering of birds. He got to his feet and strolled a little along the stream, his eyes taking in the picturesque foliage of the forest awakening in spring, with dead leaves still on some branches and new ones trying to be born. He stopped and sat on a log on the very edge of the bank, contemplating the dreary vastness of the stream. Sherwood Forest was a beautiful place, and he did like it a lot.

“Sir Guy, Lord Huntingdon told me where to find you,” Tuck’s voice came as the monk stopped several steps from Guy. “Little John accompanied me here, but then he went back to the camp.”

Guy smiled; of course, Robin knew this place because it was Guy who had once led Isabella and Robin there. “What are you doing here? What do you want? I am in no need for a sermon or a confession.”

“Sir Robin told me that you need to cut your hair and shave. He sent me to help you.”

“Robin takes too much on himself.” Guy chuckled, smoothing his hair back with one hand. "Well, for once I agree with him: I do need and want to cut my hair.”

Tuck began to help Guy have his beard and hair cut. When Tuck finished, he perused Guy and smiled. Guy looked at the surface of the water, at his own reflection, fascinated with the changes, as if he were mesmerized; his face seemed lengthened as he had lost weight, but he still looked handsome.

“Now you look much better,” Tuck opined.

Guy smiled. “Maybe.”

They returned to the outlaws’ camp in the gathering dusk. The great fire was burning near the kitchen, throwing an orange glow on everything around. Kate, Rebecca, and John sat around the fire, staring thoughtfully into the flames. Will stood at the entrance to the sleeping quarters, talking to Djaq who was still fussing over Megan and Allan. As Much was not there, the dinner was being cooked by John, and at the fire were roasting steaks of venison, pheasants, squirrels, and fresh fish from the river. All the air was filled with the sweet smell of good things cooking.

Djaq swept out of the sleeping quarters and stopped next to Will. As her eyes fell on Gisborne, she beckoned him to her. “Gisborne, come here. We need to do something.”

Guy appreciated Djaq’s offer; his injured back was burning with fire after the bath. “Thank you for your help,” he said as he stopped near the entrance to the sleeping part of the camp.

“Let’s go.” Then Djaq walked inside the camp.

The lines of worry etched into his face suddenly made Guy look older. He stalked towards the sleeping quarters and passed by Will, who frowned at him. Ignoring the young carpenter who obviously hated him, Guy entered and stopped abruptly. “Robin is not here! Why?” he addressed his question to Djaq.

“Robin is the most disobedient patient I have ever had. He knows that he should rest, but he prefers to think that he is invincible and nothing can hurt him.”

Guy made a step forward and paused. “It is a typical Robin! It took me some time to understand that.”

Djaq shook her head, her long dark hair falling freely down her back. Her hair had grown during the year she had lived in Acre, and she wasn’t going to cut it. “Robin is a very reserved man, and he rarely wears his heart on his sleeve. Yet, he is outspoken and always needs a good company to be happy and feel like himself. He needs to be loved, and he thrives on the love others feel for him. We are friends, but he hasn’t opened his heart to me, although I can read his mind quite well.”

Guy seated himself on a nearby unoccupied bunk. “Robin Hood is an enigma I cannot decipher. He is like a closed book, but every page of this book is important.”

“Exactly,” Djaq agreed, amazed that Gisborne had begun to understand Robin. “Gisborne, undress!”

Guy removed his jerkin and his shirt, throwing them on the bunk. Holding a small bottle filled with rose oil, Djaq came to Guy and began to work; she took a clean cloth and soaked it in oil.

“Ah!” Guy moaned at the touch of the cloth on the exposed skin of his back.

“Patience,” Djaq said softly as she rubbed special ointment into Guy’s skin. “This ointment will help take away some pain, but it will hurt for at least several weeks more.”

 “What is it?”

“Saracen wonders!” Djaq gave a quiet laugh. “It is healing well. You won’t have many scars left.”

“Thank you.” Guy’s lips were trembling as he spoke.

“You are welcome, Gisborne.”

Guy looked around, his eyes lingering on Robin’s empty bunk. “Where did Robin go?”

The young Saracen shrugged. “Robin was secretive. He asked me to tell you that tonight he would take you somewhere for a private conversation with someone. I know nothing else.”

“Interesting,” Guy said briefly, dumbfounded.

When Djaq finished the treatment, Guy thanked her and hastily put on his shirt. He headed to Megan’s bunk and settled onto the edge. Guy looked down at Megan who stirred under the tender touch of his thumb to her cheek. Her face was relaxed and lovely, as if nothing had happened to her today, as if she were sleeping peacefully. Guy liked her fine-boned and smooth-skinned face, her rosy lips full and sensual; her dark brows were swooped in a graceful curve over her closed eyes of the stormy sea color. Megan was beautiful and tempting, and Guy wanted her to recover and be well.

Guy didn’t know why he had felt so elated remembering the moment when he had promised Lord Hugh Bennet to protect Megan. He intended to fulfill the promise. He had never had anyone to take care of, except for Marian, and he hadn’t done his duty to Marian well. But he wouldn’t fail Megan, he thought.

§§§

The sunset hour in Sherwood Forest was still and lonely, blazing in gold and red as the sun was slowly sinking behind the trees. Robin sauntered along the well-known paths in the forest, enjoying the sweetness of the peaceful moment. He made his way to the western part of the woods, heading to the abandoned cottage, where Malcolm was supposed to wait for him tonight. He knew the way very well, for there was nobody in the shire who knew the woods better than him.

When he nearly reached the outer circle of Sherwood Forest, he dived between the bushes, and was at once hidden in the shadows of trees as the sun had almost sunk behind the trees and there was little of daylight left. He decided to shorten his way and took the briefest and most secretive way through the bushes, avoiding the longer way along the River Trent. Feeling a nagging pain in his lower abdomen, Robin slowed his pace, stopped for a moment to rest, and then resumed walking.

Robin paused near the shabby, old cottage. His heart ached to see his father, who had given up a normal life after the fire at Gisborne Manor. But when he remembered Malcolm’s actions in the courtyard, a tide of anger swept over him. He stood silent for a moment, a myriad of conflicted emotions swirling in his head. He was pleased to see his father and to know that he was alive, but he couldn’t forgive Malcolm for leaving him to his fate when he had been kidnapped by Bailiff Longthorn. He didn’t quite know how to treat Malcolm – as a stranger, a long-lost friend, or as a father.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Robin pushed the door, and in the fading light of the afternoon, streaming through the only grated window, he saw a slender hooded man of an average height, who had risen to his feet at the cracking sound of the opening door and now stood, looking at his back-from-the-dead son from beneath the folds of his hood. The hooded man made a step towards Robin, but then stopped, hesitating, as if not knowing what to do and say.

“I am here,” Robin began in a neutral voice. He didn’t know what he felt for Malcolm. He didn’t feel any love for the hooded man, his father, who, however, had abandoned him years ago and hadn’t raised him as his son. He didn’t hate or loathe him – he pitied Malcolm.

“Are you alright, Robin?” Malcolm asked worriedly. He feared to address Robin as his son.

Robin glowered at Malcolm, and an unpleasant smirk twisted his lips. “Although you didn’t want us to save Gisborne and the three other prisoners, my men, Archer, and I did that. There was a fight in Nottingham, on the central square.” He emitted a heavy sigh. “We returned to our old camp in the forest. After taking a short rest, I came here.”

Malcolm was silent for a few long heartbeats. He then said, “I am glad that you are… unscratched.”

“Let’s take a seat.”

Robin snuffed out two candles that were burning at the only table in the small room, for he didn’t wish to attract attention to the place. Malcolm realized that Robin wanted to guarantee the secrecy of the place, and he didn’t object. The room was pitched into semi-darkness, and now the only light came from the flickering flames of the fire dancing in the hearth.

There were two chairs and two benches in the room, and Robin seated himself in a chair near the hearth. He made a sharp movement that caused him pain, and the familiar nagging pain shot through his lower stomach. A grimace on his face, Robin shifted in his chair, thinking that he overestimated his physical strength. Djaq was right that he needed more rest after the today’s intense battle.

Malcolm asked worriedly, “How are you, Robin? Do you need my help?”

“No, thank you,” Robin refused. “I am alright.”

“Are you really feeling well?”

“Yes, I am. It is usual for me to feel this pain.” Robin’s words came out in a half growl, half groan that echoed in the back of his throat. “We were embroiled in an intense fight today. I strained myself too much, more than I should have done. I will feel better tomorrow.”

“You haven’t recovered yet, right?”

Robin looked down, at his stomach. “Around eight months have passed since Vaisey stabbed me in Acre, and the wound has healed well. But I was… too badly injured; I just need more time to recuperate.”

“You should take better care of yourself. You should be rooting for your own healthy longevity instead of rescuing murderers and traitors like Gisborne.” Malcolm rose to his feet and moved to the hearth to throw a log into the fire.

Robin chose to not comment on his father’s statement about Guy. “I don’t have time to rest. Not now.”

“King Richard,” Malcolm said succinctly. He settled in his chair, holding Robin’s gaze.

Robin gave a nod. “Yes.” He sighed. “King Richard was taken prisoner in Austria, and now Prince John is plotting to overthrow him. I have to save the king again and protect his throne.”

"You should recover at first, Robin.”

“My life is no longer in peril, but Richard’s life might be.”

Malcolm smiled. “You are so loyal to King Richard. You saved his life by sacrificing yourself for him.”

“I did my duty to my king. And I also did what I wanted to do.”

The hooded man tilted his head to one side, surveying Robin. His heart began to beat faster in delight: Robin was more handsome and charming than he had been in his youth. His son took a lot after him in the appearance, Malcolm thought proudly; Robin’s sandy hair and pale blue eyes were the hallmarks of the Huntingdon family and his Saxon heritage. Robin looked very young, younger than his real age, and his lithe build didn’t make him looking older. Yet, his son was something that Malcolm had never been: he was a dashing, honorable, and charming hero, the only one of the English nobleman of the time who stood up against tyranny and fought for freedom and for his forward-looking ideas.

Malcolm shifted his hood to better see Robin, not removing it. He began to talk in a family manner, like a father talks to his son, hoping that Robin wouldn’t bristle in anger. “Son, I know that you became a war hero in the Holy Land. I have also heard a lot about the great exploits of the heroic Robin Hood. Everyone admires and loves you! You are a legend of England! Bards sing songs of praise about Robin Hood and his merry men! You are probably more loved by the English people than King Richard!”

A smug grin graced Robin’s features. “Yeah, maybe people exaggerate.” He pretended that he hadn’t noticed the change in his father’s way of addressing him.

“No, they don’t,” Malcolm claimed.

“Perhaps.”

“Son, I am so proud of you. I am so proud of the man you have become.”

Despite Malcolm’s heartfelt disposition, Robin still didn’t know how to treat his presumably-long-dead father – with coldness and resentment for abandoning him and Archer or with gratitude for leaving him to protect him. “You seem to know a great deal about me, Father,” he said, astounded that he referred to Malcolm, almost a stranger after the long separation, as his father. “But I am not amazed. I am sure that Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine told you many things about me.”

Malcolm rose to his feet. His entire body went as rigid as if Robin had just buried a dagger in his chest. When shock began to ease, he began to speak in a low, shaky voice. “You do know the truth? Who told you?” He took a step back from the chair where Robin sat.

Robin nodded. “Yes. I found your diary hidden in the box where you kept our family’s jewels.” He let out a heavy breath. “I read the diary and learned everything in details. Then Richard told me the truth.”

Mortal terror surged through Malcolm. “And what… do you think?”

Robin remained silent for a moment, as if ruminating. Then he said, “The truth is confusing and bitter.”

Robin’s father sat down again. “I can imagine. It must be… difficult for you to accept the truth.”

Robin made a sad attempt at smiling. “I am confused about everything in my life. One of my dear friends – the physician who saved my life – says that it is normal after what I have been through.”

Keenness shot from Malcolm’s eyes. “Tell me everything, if you can speak about it.”

“Alright.” Robin reluctantly rehearsed the story of the regicide attempt in Imuiz, his death, and his miraculous survival. He sighed with relief when he finished the tale. “This is the whole story.”

“You have such fortitude! You are a fighter and a survivor! Any other man would have died!”

“I don’t want to talk about my death. Seriously, enough was said.”

“Of course, Robin.”

"Well, my dear Father,” Robin drawled caustically. “I grant you, it is interesting to know that you have such a high opinion of me. I may be almost sure of getting your admiration at least, if not love.”

“Robin… Robin…” Malcolm breathed plaintively. The statement was implicative: his son doubted that Malcolm loved him. “Please don’t say this. Please don’t be so cruel to me…”

“I am not being cruel. It is something else,” Robin tried to explain the emotions that possessed him. “What should I feel when I learn that you are alive after believing for years that you died in the fire?”

“I don’t know.” Malcolm cast his eyes down. 

“And neither do I.”

“Prince John said that Guy of Gisborne had murdered you,” Malcolm mumbled, his voice unsteady.

“John lied, and because of that Gisborne had to spend many months in the dungeons.”

“I don’t care for Guy of Gisborne,” Malcolm growled. “I hate Roger of Gisborne for everything he did to me and to you. He was a villain who sold out our secret to King Henry, hoping that he would be pardoned for high treason and being indifferent that you, Robin – an innocent child – would suffer.”

“I despise Roger of Gisborne as well, Father. This man had no honor and conscience; he brought a great trouble upon our family. But Guy and his sister, Isabella, are not innocent of Sir Roger’s sins, and they mustn’t be held accountable for your own mistakes, Father.”

“Do you blame me for this old story, Robin?”

“I do,” Robin answered firmly.

“Why, Son?”

Robin gazed away, refusing to meet his father’s intensely haunted gaze. “You should have kept the secret of my true parentage instead of sharing it with Lady Ghislaine of Gisborne during your pillow talk. I don’t comprehend why you told Lady Ghislaine the truth. It was foolish of you to do that.”

“I trusted Ghislaine because I loved her.”

Robin breathed deeply, his heart aching at the thought that he wasn’t a love child as he had once believed. Instead, he was a product of Malcolm’s adultery with Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine – a child of his father’s lust. “Even if you… loved Lady Ghislaine, you should have kept silent.”

Malcolm flung off his hood and shook his head, displaying his scarred face to Robin. His expression evolved into a troubled one as he stared steadily into Robin’s eyes. “Robin, I beg you not to hate Queen Eleanor. She has always loved you; she sacrificed many years of normal life for you.”

“I know. Richard told me that she had lost a chance to be released from her prison after King Henry had learned the truth about her adultery with you and … my existence.”

“It is true, Robin. Eleanor always tried to protect you… by trusting your life to King Richard.”

“I have no doubt that she did everything to keep me safe.”

“Then don’t hate you. Try to understand her. Everything we did was necessary to protect you.”

Lounging in his chair, Robin stretched his back, and put his hands behind his head. He cogitated his response for a minute. “You will be astonished if I say that I am not angry with Queen Eleanor. On the contrary, I am grateful for everything good she did for me.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “When I learned the truth, I was deeply shocked, and we had a hot argument with Richard.” He blinked once, his lashes casting dark shadows against the pallor of his skin before added, “But I reconciled with the fact that I am a bastard, because I have a deep affection for Richard… and because of my undying gratitude for his role in my life. Later, I accepted my true parentage because my world and I changed.”

“Everything changed?” Malcolm’s voice was wonder-stricken.

As he was getting perturbed, Robin turned to the window, fearing that he would fail to conceal his emotions that were buried under his façade of neutrality. “Death had a strange effect on me. It changed me and my life.” He swallowed hard and looked back at his father, his expression rigid but controlled. In the emotional struggle, a mask fell from his face, and raw pain found its reflection in his eyes. “As I said, I was confused and I am still confused, but my mind is… clearing, though slowly. Now I see my life, myself, and many things in a different light.”

Malcolm could see the reflection of Robin’s bleeding heart in his son’s eyes. He shuddered at the thought how much his son had suffered in his relatively short life. He himself would have never been able to become a man like Robin. “You are a very strong man, Robin. I am so proud of you.”

Robin flashed a smile of detachment. “Well, it is good to know this.”

“Your mother is proud of you as well,” Malcolm affirmed. “I met her only a few times after the fire, and we spoke a lot about you. She told me how clever, smart, intelligent, brave, and noble-hearted you were.” He smiled with a slow, dazzling smile which brightened his scarred face so much that for a moment, his face reminded that of an attractive young man who had once been a star at the royal court and whose head-spinning charm had entranced Queen Eleanor. “She was incarcerated, but she always stayed in contact with Richard, Edward, and Thornton. They regularly informed her about you.”

"Sir Edward Fitzwater was an honorable and loyal man. I was with him when he died, and I still blame myself for not saving him that day. He had been my guardian for many years before Richard assumed this responsibility until my majority. He loved me like his own son and took good care of me, spoiling and pampering me. He was a fatherly figure to me and tried to give me the guidance of a wise man. However, Edward didn’t understand me completely, and many of our opinions diverged.”

“King Richard understands you better. Is that so?”

Robin smiled. “Yes.”

“Richard is Eleanor’s son through and through, and he has much in common with his famous mother. Robin, you have much in common with Eleanor. That’s why Richard knows you very well.”

“Naturally.” Indeed, Richard was one of the few men who understood the intricacies of Robin’s mind. Robin also found himself feeling sympathetic with the legendary old lady who had endured a lot due to the total wreckage of her marriage to King Henry II of England. Yet, he feared to face Eleanor.

“Robin?” Malcolm’s voice shattered Robin’s short-lived reverie.

There was something else Robin needed to know. “I have heard that Bridget and Thornton are dead,” he broached the sore subject. “It was you who I killed them?”

“Why are you asking?”

Robin detected notes of fear in his father’s tone. It was enough for him to make the conclusion.  “In the morning, I was in Locksley and met Mary, one of the maids. She was overjoyed to see me alive and promised to keep silent until Gisborne’s execution.” Then his face hardened. “She said that Bridget and Thornton had been murdered from a bow. It looked like a renowned marksman had shot them.”

“It was me. I killed Thornton and Bridget,” Malcolm got things out in the open.

“Why? Why?” a disheartened Robin asked impatiently.

Malcolm offered an explanation. “I overheard their conversation with Gisborne and Edward’s daughter, Marian. They were discussing Bailiff Longthorn’s assassination attempts on your life.” He clenched his fists. “Thornton betrayed us, Robin. I couldn’t have allowed Thornton to tell them the truth.”

“Gisborne and Marian already know the truth,” Robin enlightened. “Richard revealed to them the truth because I asked him about that on my deathbed. I also asked the king to pardon Gisborne.”

Malcolm jumped to his feet. “How could you ask the king about that, Robin? Do you understand how dangerous this secret is?” He raised his voice. “Your own life is in danger! The Queen Mother’s reputation is at stake! Political stability in the Angevin Empire might be annihilated!”

“I know, but I believe that Gisborne deserved to know the truth. The secret of my true parentage was the reason why Gisborne was sacrificed by… _my mother and my half-brother –_ Queen Eleanor and King Richard – to let me live a life of a rich, high-ranking nobleman after the fire.”

“Robin, you have a big and kind heart!” Malcolm exclaimed, frowning. “You felt guilty of Gisborne’s unhappiness, which is why you requested that the king spare the life of this criminal and tell him the truth.” His frown deepened. “You felt guilty that Gisborne lost his lands and was banished.”

Robin returned in a casual voice, “I am Robin Hood! That’s why I care about everything and everyone.” A sigh erupted from the deepest part of his soul before he spoke. “Your guess is right: _I felt guilty and wanted to right the wrongs caused to the Gisborne offspring so long ago_.”

“Your heart is too noble, Son. But you shouldn’t have helped Gisborne.”

Robin shook his head in disagreement and glanced away, staring into the flames in the hearth. “Lies almost destroyed Guy’s life and my own life.” He raised his voice a notch. “We had to untangle the web of lies and mysteries and to stop hating each other. That’s why I asked Richard to grant Guy a royal pardon and tell him the truth; rest assured that I am very fond of him, and I don’t respect him.”

“Robin, what if the truth slips from their tongues?” Malcolm was apprehensive.

“Richard told Guy and Marian everything and made them promise that they would take the secret to their graves. Otherwise, Richard will kill them.”

“But the king cannot watch them all the time,” Robin’s father pointed out.

Robin shrugged eloquently. “Richard has an expansive network of spies and his own secrets. Even I don’t know all his deals.” He glanced down, at his hands folded on his lap. “Gisborne and Marian understand the importance of keeping this secret. They will never utter a word.”

“Well, if you think so…”

Robin looked Malcolm squarely in the eye. “These days, you seem to have some twisted desire to have a target practice on defenseless people. You shot Bridget and Thornton, and today you shot Allan.”

“I had no choice,” Malcolm attempted to defend himself. “I had to silence both Bridget and Thornton. Thornton betrayed my trust, and Bridget was too talkative and dangerous.” He lowered his head, shame coursing through his veins. “I shot this young man in the courtyard in the heat of anger.”

Robin sighed. “Allan’s condition is bad. His life is in grave danger.”

“I am sorry,” Robin heard his father say.

“Is it the only thing you can say after you shot an innocent man who courageously tried to save f another innocent man from death?”

A look of shame was distinguishable on Malcolm’s face. “I have done enough in my life to call down the wrath of God. I committed so many mistakes that I will probably never atone in two lifetimes.”

“I just hope that Allan will survive.” Robin’s voice was nearly mortuary.

Malcolm hung his head. “I hope that he will be alright.”

“Pray he will,” Robin spoke with harshness.

“I know that you despise me, Robin. I don’t blame you for not loving me anymore.” Malcolm’s eyes revealed the depth of his sadness at the thought that his eldest son probably hated him.

“Father, I don’t hate and loathe you,” Robin said in soothing tones that surprised Malcolm. His lips curled into a ghost of a smile. “You disappeared after the fire because of me. You decided to give up a life of a nobleman and hide, so that I could live and inherit your titles and estates.”

“It was my duty to protect you.”

“Guy should know that you are alive. You have to talk to Archer as well. Don’t you think so?”

Malcolm pulled his hood on his head. “I know that I have to face them,” he agreed gruffly. “I will tell you everything. There will be no bad blood between all of us then.”

Robin scoffed. “There is too much bad blood between Gisborne and me. We will be tainted forever.” He ran both hands through his hair in exasperation. “Some things can be forgiven but not forgotten.”

“You haven’t forgiven Gisborne, have you?”

Robin climbed to his feet. “Gisborne killed several people whom I loved, and I cannot forgive him for that.” He smiled vaguely. “I gave him a chance to lead a normal life, but this is all I can offer him.”

Malcolm was secretly pleased that his son didn’t forgive Guy. “I understand, Son.”

“I am leaving. Wait for us here.” Robin turned around and walked out of the cottage.

§§§

After Djaq had finished tending to the healing welts on Guy’s back, Guy thanked her. He discovered how delightful it was to feel that not everyone hated and loathed him, that someone wanted to help him without asking anything in return, just because he needed help. Before walking out of the sleeping quarters, Guy smiled faintly at Djaq with gratitude, drawing a matching look from her.

Guy found Robin and Archer standing near a tall oak tree, absorbed in a lively conversation. Having noticed Guy walking towards them, Robin and Archer lapsed into silence, appraising Guy who was walking to them. It was difficult, though not impossible, to recognize in Guy the same miserable prisoner whom they had dragged from the scaffold several hours ago. Although Guy was attractive in his expensive black leather attire, he was looked haggard and careworn, and his face seemed lopsided; there was an imprint of sufferings and agony in his posture and his looks.

Guy made a quick perusal of Robin. Having already changed his clothes, Robin now wore forest green leather trousers, a brown muslin shirt, and his old black leather jerkin – his old outlaw attire. Guy smirked to himself, thinking that Robin’s jerkin was designed in quite an eccentric fashion for an earl and a grown-up man. He wondered whether Robin deliberately chose boyish outfits to stress his youth.

Like Robin, Archer was dressed boyishly, in a brown shirt with whimsical embroidery on the front and dark brown leather trousers. Above his shirt, he wore a brown leather jerkin that was unbuttoned down to his waist. Archer looked handsome, roguish, and charming, and Guy noticed, not for the first time today, that there was some facial resemblance between Robin and Archer. Robin’s lithe frame contrasted with Archer’s larger build; Robin’s chest and shoulders were quite broad and well-proportioned, but he was leaner than Guy had seen him on the first day of his return from the Crusade.

Robin flashed a smile as his eyes met Guy’s. “Now you look like Guy of Gisborne.”

Guy smirked. “And you look like Robin Hood.”

“Always,” Robin retorted with a merry laugh.

“When did you return?” Guy looked between Robin and Archer.

“Several minutes ago,” Robin responded.

“I fell in love with Sherwood while I was hunting for rabbits and squirrels for the dinner,” Archer shared his impression about the woods, grinning sheepishly.

Robin’s lips stretched into a wide grin. “I began to love the forest in childhood. I often ran away from Locksley to Sherwood, sometimes at night. Much didn’t know how to keep me out of trouble.”

Archer flashed a sad smile. “Robin, you have good childhood memories.”

“Archer, I didn’t mean to sadden you,” Robin said compassionately.

“It is not your fault, Robin,” Archer spoke in a tight voice. Thoughts of their father made him almost sick with disgust. “I was a fool to blame you for growing up in poverty.”

Robin flashed a smile and sighed. “It is over. Forget it.”

Guy wondered what the relationship between Archer and Robin was like; he was shocked by the news that Archer was Malcolm’s illegitimate son. “I think that you can share your childhood memories later.”

“I didn’t ask you to interfere, Gisborne,” Robin commented distastefully.

Guy ignored Robin’s reprimand. “Djaq told me that you wanted to take me somewhere, Locksley.”

“Yes.” Robin’s face became serious. “My friends are preparing everything for our departure tomorrow. We… are going to have… an interesting evening.”

“What are you intending to do?” Guy inquired.

“We will have an important conversation, if Robin wants this,” Archer said cautiously.

Robin shook his head approvingly. “Yes, I do want that. Gisborne has the right to know.”

Archer nodded with a smile. “I agree.”

Guy raised a surprised brow. “What do you mean?”

“Just follow me,” Robin instructed. “I will explain everything soon.”

“Very well,” Guy consented.

Robin and Archer began to walk away, and Guy trailed behind them. Soon they arrived at Dead Man’s Crossing, where Robin took a turn towards one of the numerous serpentine forest paths, motioning the two other men to follow him. Robin led Archer and Guy into the depths of the forest, moving through a maze of forest paths, each of which took many turns and twists, although they were walking along the river.

Soon they stopped near the cottage, and Guy noticed dark looks cross Robin and Archer’s faces. Guy thought that it could have been one of the outlaws’ hideouts, but the nervousness and anxiety of the two other men meant that Robin had led them to this secluded place for a reason.

“Stay here until I return. Then you will enter,” Robin told Guy and Archer.

Guy frowned. “Locksley, what are you planning?”

Archer was amazed. “Why do you need it to go there alone first, Robin?”

“Just do what I ask,” Robin said dismissively.

Archer nodded. “As you wish, Robin.”

“Fine,” Guy said, annoyed with Robin’s secrecy.

“I won’t make you wait for long.” Robin turned around and entered the cottage.

Guy stared at the door that Robin had slammed shut just a moment ago. “What is going on?”

“Wait and see,” Archer said quietly.

“Robin is not feeling well,” Guy voiced his opinion. “Will he be able to lead his men?” He saw the stiffness of Robin’s movements, which bespoke some sort of discomfort Robin was experiencing.

Archer nodded but smiled wryly. “Robin doesn’t feel well, but we have Djaq to help him. And he is Robin Hood! How can he be unable to lead?”

Guy rolled his eyes. “You speak like Robin!”

“I am his brother,” Archer replied. “How are you feeling, Guy? You were imprisoned for many months.”

“Indeed, I was,” Guy said in such a monodic voice that Archer’s heart squeezed painfully. “It was not… easy, but I had a lot of time to brood over my life and my mistakes.” He paused, pondering whether he should continue; then he went on. “I was behind the bars, and I cannot say I liked that.”

“I have never been imprisoned, but I think that it must be terrible.”

“Yes, it is so,” Guy murmured. “I understand how much prisoners, including Robin, suffered in the sheriff’s dungeons. I will do everything to save others from punishment and torture.”

“I am glad you are alive, Guy.”

“You are most kind, Archer.” Guy didn’t quite comprehend why Archer was concerned about him.

In the next moment, the door flung open, and Robin appeared at the doorway. He closed the door and looked towards Archer and Guy. “You can enter.”

Guy turned puzzled eyes from Archer to Robin. “Whom will I see there, Locksley?”

“Gisborne, there is something you don’t know,” Robin gave a cryptic reply.

Archer sighed. “It is something extremely important.”

Guy eyed his companions suspiciously. “What?”

Robin was nervous. Making his voice as steady as it can be, he said, “I asked Richard to tell you the truth, and he granted my request. But there is something you don’t know.”

Dead silence greeted Robin’s statement. When Guy at last deigned to speak, his face was utterly confused. “What else don’t I know?”

Archer eyed both Robin and Guy curiously, but he said nothing.

“Patience,” Robin said curtly.

Guy regarded Robin. Robin’s expression was guarded, but a slight hitch in his voice betrayed his nervousness. Guy couldn't quite make out if it was a premonition of some sort or discomfort. “I don’t think that something will shock me more than… the facts I already know.”

Robin smirked darkly. “Don’t hurry to make conclusions.”

Guy’s brows knitted in a frown. “What?”

“You will realize in a few moments,” Robin’s enigmatic reply came.

Robin spun around and entered the cottage; Archer and Guy went inside as well.

At the sound of the door opening, the hooded man stood up and stared at three guests. In the glowing candlelight, Malcolm’s lean figure seemed serpent-like, and, as he removed his hood and showed his scarred face to the audience, his eyes glittered as he locked his gaze with Guy’s.

“No,” Guy whispered to himself. He recognized the hooded man as the person who had wounded Allan today. He studied the strange man closely, thinking that reminded him of someone who had long departed from earth. He veered his gaze to Robin, whose expression turned apologetic, and, suddenly, understanding struck him. “It cannot be true,” he murmured.

Robin nodded at Guy. “Yes.”

“No,” Guy repeated.

Archer shrugged. “We told you that it is… something… someone very special.”

“Unfortunately, he has to hide because it is not safe for him to appear in broad daylight,” Robin made an attempt to jest, but he failed to dissolve the growing tension.

“Are you kidding me, Locksley?” Guy nearly screamed, scowling.

“It is no joke,” Robin said seriously.

Looking at Malcolm, Guy found himself in a state of complete shock, as if he had just been hit full in the face by something totally spellbinding. “Now I understand many things.” He looked away, his jaw clenched as sombrous memories flooded him. He finally realized how King Richard had learned so many details about the private lives of Malcolm of Locksley, and Ghislaine and Roger of Gisborne.

Robin nodded. “I am sure you can make appropriate conclusions, Gisborne.”

Guy exhaled in a heavy sigh. “So it is what I wasn’t told in Acre, Locksley.”

“What do you imply?” Archer inquired, curious.

“Nothing,” Guy dismissed Archer’s further questions.

“Gisborne, you are playing with fire,” Robin hissed, his lips pulling back into a snarl. “A word of advice: choose your words carefully. Now you know what it means to be incarcerated for months, but there are worse things… It is better to be handcuffed by a certain promise than to languish in prison or die an untimely death.”

Archer looked baffled, swiveling his gaze from Robin to Guy back and forth.

For a moment, Guy looked troubled; then his face revealed a touch of embarrassment. “I know.” He knew that if the truth about Robin’s true parentage slipped from his tongue, he would end up dead.

"I pray you understand the grave seriousness of the situation, Gisborne,” Malcolm murmured, frowning and pushing his fingers through his grizzled hair. “You must keep your mouth shut.”

“I don’t wish any harm to anyone,” Guy said truthfully.

Robin gave Guy an epigrammatic look. “It is quite a considerable sacrifice for you, Gisborne.”

"I have had enough of your mockery today, Locksley!" Guy parried with a growl.

“Oh, they are bickering,” Archer muttered more to himself than to others.

“Robin and Guy, you are grown-up men, but you behave like two boys,” Malcolm broke in, staring at Gisborne. “Guy, you hated Robin almost for nothing for so many years, and you tried to take his life many times. Do you still wish Robin dead? Do you still hate my son?”

Guy shook his head. “I no longer hate Robin.”

“Very good.” Malcolm shifted his gaze to Robin, then, his eyes shimmering with a bittersweet feeling as he said quietly, “Robin, you hated Guy for murdering me, when you believed that I had died in the fire. Do you still hate Guy now, when you know the truth?”

“I don’t hate Gisborne, but he will never become my friend,” Robin proclaimed with conviction. His gaze flickered to Guy and then back to his father. “Guy and I have already discussed the terms and conditions of our alliance.” He smiled smugly. “Guy should get accustomed to my mockery and teasing, for our arguments entertain me a lot."

Guy muttered a curse under his breath and growled, “Locksley, you can go to hell, but I won’t be a target for teasing and mocking, as you called me in the morning.”

Archer giggled. “Your verbal duels are amusing.”

Guy huffed in annoyance. “So very amusing that I want to punch Hood.”

“I thought that you liked our little mocking skirmishes, Gisborne,” Robin said in mock amazement.

Guy frowned. “You are too full of yourself and conceited, Locksley.”

“Conceited?” Robin inquired laconically.

Guy nodded and supplemented, “You are also vain. Quite vain.”

Robin laughed and gave a snarky response. “At least I am not as cynical and selfish as you, Sir Guy of Gisborne. So cynical and selfish, as well as cruel, that you failed to earn the respect of the populace during three years and four winters you spent in Nottingham before my return.” An infuriating grin appeared on his face. “This time, it is not mockery, decorated with flowers, but a statement of fact!”

Guy would have shaken Robin savagely if he didn’t want to continue their conversation. “I am already fed up, Robin of Locksley,” he said in a disgruntled tone. "I told you today that I wouldn’t tolerate it!”

“This time, you began a quarrel,” Robin commented, grinning at Guy who averted his gaze.

Malcolm watched and listened to Robin with an admiring smile on his face, thinking that his eldest son had Queen Eleanor’s sharp wit. “Robin, you are as witty as your mother… was.”

A long paused followed, and then Robin laughed. “Actually, I am proud of that.”

“You are proud, Locksley?” Guy asked a bit hoarsely, astonished that he could find his voice at all. He had thought that Robin, an arrogant man who was proud of his Saxon heritage, would have found it hard to accept that the young Earl of Huntingdon was a bastard, but he had been mistaken.

Robin gave a nod. “Yes, I am.”

Disbelief rose up in Guy’s heart, but meeting Robin's twinkling eyes dispelled any doubts about the truth in his words. “Congratulations, Locksley.”

“You are being unusually kind and gallant, Gisborne. I really need time to get accustomed to you,” Robin said with undisguised irony, shifting his gaze to his father. “I think that we are going to have a difficult and frank conversation.” A tiny spear of anxiety prodded him, but he managed to get a hold of his emotions. “Do you wish to take a seat?”

Archer and Guy nodded wordlessly. Robin eased down comfortably in the same chair where he had been sitting some time ago, talking to his father. Malcolm settled in a chair near the window, and Archer landed on one of the two benches near Robin. Only Guy remained standing, leaning against a nearby wall and staring at the man who had once been his mother’s lover. The moment of truth finally came, and there was no way back.

“Guy and Archer, you have to know something about your mother,” Malcolm began, breaking the silence. “It is something that you probably won’t like to learn.”

“What?” Guy raised a brow, looking between Archer and Malcolm. “What are you talking about?”

Archer looked at Guy, his eyes serious, his hand folded over his chest. “Guy, I informed you that I am Robin’s half-brother. But I didn’t tell you that I am… also your half-brother.”

“It is true,” Malcolm confirmed. “ _Archer is your half-brother, Guy. He is my and Ghislaine’s son._ ”

To Robin and Archer’s amazement, Guy’s expression shifted, but not to shock or anger. Instead, Guy threw back his head, and a rumble of bitter laughter poured forth. When it had passed, he gazed at Malcolm. “Once I saw my mother heading to the forest, and I followed her.” He sighed heavily. “She still loved my father…” He trailed off, finding it difficult to call Roger of Gisborne his father. “I was so angry. She told me that I had to forget him and pretend that he didn't exist.”

“And what happened next?” Archer questioned.

Guy sighed, feeling chagrined and simultaneously agitated. This old story brought back too many conflicted emotions – pain for the loss of his mother and Roger of Gisborne, hatred for Malcolm, and regret that everything had gone so wrong on the day of the fire. Nervous tension gripped his heart to the extreme, as if to recoup him for the unnecessary expense of emotions. “I found my mother in the woods, and we talked. I asked her to go back to Normandy, but she said that she would marry you, Lord Malcolm.” He paused, his expression darkening. He despised Malcolm of Locksley, but he was still addressing to the old man in a formal way. “And then mother fell to the ground, clutching her stomach. She implored me to run to Locksley and get help. I had never run so fast.”

“What happened to Lady Ghislaine?” Robin muttered breathlessly.

“She was in labor,” Malcolm announced. “Archer, Ghislaine gave birth to you that night. You arrived in the world early, but you were a robust and healthy child.” He looked down, at his boots. “We decided to take you to a safe place until Ghislaine and I could marry and take you to the manor. But we–”

“But you never married,” Archer finished for him.

“We had no chance to marry,” Malcolm accented. “The fire at Gisborne Manor ruined our plans.”

Guy sneered, looking at Malcolm with contempt. “But you survived and escaped.”

Malcolm adopted a tone of determined boldness. “I couldn’t return – I had no right to return. I was badly injured, and my face… was scarred.” A strangled laugh erupted from his throat, and he blinked back the moisture from his eyes. “And I had to disappear because it was the only option for me after the fire.” His eyes pierced Guy’s face. “Robin said that you, Gisborne, know… something… You should understand why I couldn’t come back, although I wanted to be with my son.”

Guy nodded. “I know, Lord Malcolm. There was no way back to a normal life for you.”

Malcolm’s expression was miserable. “I had long resigned to live in shadows.”

“So,” Archer interjected, "there is something you are hiding from me.”

“Archer, don’t ask anything,” Robin recommended.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Archer clamored. “I have been kept in the dark for too long. I have never known who my parents are, and now you are saying that I have no right to learn everything.”

"Archer, you are putting a lot of pressure on us,” Robin snapped, clearly irritated. “If we don’t tell you something, it means that you don’t need to know it for your own sake and that it doesn’t concern you.”

“But, Robin, you–” Archer persisted.

Robin cut Archer off. “God’s teeth, Archer, stop asking questions I won’t answer!”

“But it is something very important, right?” Archer continued with a note of interrogation in his voice.

Robin was silent for a brief moment. Then, with a tip of his head, he acknowledged Archer’s comment. “Archer, there are things in our past that concern only our father, Gisborne, and me.” He sighed at the sight of his younger half-brother’s disappointed look. “Believe me that it is for your own sake.”

"Archer, these things are not related to you or your birth," Guy asserted. “Believe me that if Robin says that you shouldn’t know that, then you shouldn’t know that.”

“They are right, Archer. You don’t need to know everything,” Malcolm said softly.

Archer gave a nod, resigned. “You have won. I am as silent as a grave.”

Robin diverted his attention from Archer to Guy. “All this time, you, Gisborne, knew that my father and your mother… were lovers. But did you know that your mother was pregnant?”

“I didn’t know. I was young, not experienced enough to assume it was possible,” Guy supplied.

Robin pulled his gaze from the dark-haired man to Malcolm, his eyes blazing with anger. “When did you plan to tell me awesome news about your nuptials, Father? I never knew about your affair with Lady Ghislaine; not until I found your diary, from which I also learned about Archer’s existence.”

Malcolm had the decency to look embarrassed. “I am sorry, Robin.”

“I should have been told, Father!” Robin cried out in indignation.

Guy snickered. Suddenly, he wanted to pay Robin back for Robin’s earlier sarcastic assault. “Locksley, that was extremely shoddy of you! Maybe you will write a letter of complaint to your beloved villagers, who love you so much and will undoubtedly be sympathetic with their hero.” He gave a glare at Robin. “You hold it against Lord Malcolm that he didn’t tell you anything, but for once, I agree with your father. You were a seven-year-old boy, mischievous, naughty, and wild. You wouldn’t have understood why your father wanted to marry another woman and bring her children to your home.”

“Gisborne, I might forget my promise to be civil with you!” Robin rapped out. “And you always envied me. I was disobedient and fun-loving, but everyone loved me for my mischievous ways; other children sought my company. You were a somber, dull boy, whom few people in the village liked.”

“Robin and Guy, shut up!” Archer admonished.

“I will say to Gisborne whatever I want,” Robin fired back.

“And so will I,” Guy stated.

“You are impossible!” Archer exclaimed, grinning. “But the two of you are worthy of my attention!”

Robin and Guy looked at one another and then rolled their eyes at Archer.

Malcolm observed Robin talking to Guy in a mocking manner. He had never liked Guy, even in childhood. When he had wanted to marry Ghislaine, whom he truly loved, he had regretted that he would have to take Guy to Locksley Manor. But he loved Ghislaine and was ready to overlook his resentment towards Guy. After Roger of Gisborne had brought troubles upon them and after he had learned that Guy had almost murdered Robin in Acre in the Saracen attack, he began to loathe Guy wholeheartedly. Now Malcolm relished in the knowledge that Robin didn’t like Guy.

Malcolm leaned back against his chair, holding himself rigid as he fought to bring his emotions under control and make his expression blank instead of a mocking one. “Robin said the truth about Guy’s personality. But there is something else,” he said, his voice high and tight. “Unfortunately, Guy and Isabella were never liked in Locksley and Nottingham. The reason was that Ghislaine was a Norman widow, whom a few people wanted to see as the Lady of Gisborne Manor. Ghislaine was respected in the shire, but she was a foreigner in Nottingham because of her Norman roots.”

Robin was staring into the flames as he reminisced. He hadn’t liked Guy in childhood only because Guy had been one of the very few people in Locksley who hadn’t loved and adored him, instead being always annoyed with his tricks and pranks. After the fire, he had started hating Guy for his father’s murder, and his hatred had strengthened after he had learned about Guy’s attempt on the king’s life and after Gisborne’s marriage to Marian. But now everything was different – his hatred was gone.

Archer cringed at Malcolm’s words, but he chose to refrain from commenting. He was growing to dislike Malcolm more and more with every minute as he listened to his father’s speeches.

“You wanted to help my mother, Lord Malcolm? How noble of you!” Guy said trenchantly. Displeasure spilled from him in waves, and he fixed a black stare on the old man. “I trust it was a matter of supreme importance for you to help her improve her reputation by seducing her.”

Malcolm glared at Guy. “You may think whatever you want, Gisborne,” he parried coldly. “It is true that I tried to make the life of the Gisbornes during Roger’s absence more comfortable, helping your mother because you were young and inexperienced and, thus, couldn’t administer the Gisborne estate. I did my best to make other villagers friendlier, but there were too many Saxons around and so few Normans at that time; my mission was doomed to failure.” He sighed. “But I will lie if I say that I did that for you, for I helped Ghislaine because I loved her. I also liked Isabella.”

Guy nodded. “I have to confess that I have never liked you, Lord Malcolm. The thought of having you as my stepfather made me sick.” He despised Robin’s father, with all his heart.

“Watch your tongue, Gisborne,” Robin advised in a harsh voice. “Don’t forget what Roger of Gisborne did to my family.”

Archer sighed. He gave up asking questions, but he wondered what had happened between his father, his mother, and Guy’s father. He hated that his half-brothers talked in riddles, apparently trying to further obfuscate the real reason for their allusive communication.

“Locksley, I don’t approve of what he did,” Guy said in a challenging tone, “but at least you are not the one whose father was replaced only days after he had been proclaimed dead.”

Robin didn’t flinch under Guy’s unsavory gaze. “Sir Roger of Gisborne should have been exiled from Locksley! He was dying from leprosy! He could have infected everyone in Locksley and in Nottingham!”

"How dare you say this, Locksley!” Guy shouted, his voice catching with the force of anguish mingled with rage which assaulted him at the memories of the Gisbornes’ disgrace. “He was dying!”

“Gisborne, think more,” Robin confronted in a chilly voice, with a note of deep disdain towards Roger. “Even ignoring what Sir Roger of Gisborne did to the Huntingdons, we cannot say that the decision to banish him from Locksley and Nottinghamshire was unfair.” He swept his eyes over the room, his eyes fixing on his father. “I don’t understand why on the day of the fire Sir Roger suddenly arrived in Locksley, knowing that he was dying and that he could cause more deaths.” He shrugged. “Was it a deliberate action, foolishness, or irresponsibility?”

“He came to my mother. He wanted to reconcile with her,” Guy said quietly. “He needed her!”

“But did he think of his family when he came back?” Malcolm questioned. “I understand that he wanted to spend his last months in comfort with his relatives, but he brought a mortal disease to his family!”

“He was dying! He needed comfort and the company of his family in his last days!” Guy persisted in the defense of the man whom he had once called his father.

Robin directed a hard glare on Guy, fighting against a red haze of anger that threatened to descend and suffocate him; he always became angry when he remembered the events in the days after the fire. “Gisborne, there were several cases of leprosy in Locksley after the fire. Several people, who served at Gisborne Manor, contracted leprosy; they were banished to leper colonies, and their families lost them.” He raised an eyebrow. “Where could they catch leprosy?”

"My God," Guy muttered, turning away and looking at the only window in the cottage. He noticed that it had already been dark outside, and the moon dimmed behind clouds blown across it.

“I have to agree with Robin,” Archer joined the conversation. “Guy, Robin told me the story about your childhood, and I know why you and Isabella were banished from Locksley.” He sighed, for he was sure that Guy wouldn’t like what he was going to say. “If Sir Roger was infected with leprosy, he mustn’t come back to a densely populated village.”

Malcolm was delighted that the opinions of his two sons concurred. He gave Robin and Archer a look of affection; then he turned to Guy. “Gisborne, there was a risk that you and Isabella could have been infected with leprosy, but Roger didn’t care about that.” He pointed a finger at Guy. “Ghislaine, Isabella, and you, Guy, could have been easily banished from Nottinghamshire after your father had been declared dead; but I defended your family.”

Robin sighed deeply before he spoke. “Now tell me, Gisborne, why did other people have to pay for Sir Roger’s mistakes? What do you think?”

Guy was at a loss, feeling worse than being disconcerted under the force of the argument Robin had raised. He sat still, unwilling to admit that Robin, Archer, and Malcolm were probably right.

“Nothing to say, Gisborne?” Robin pressed on. “Or will you still blame only my father?”

Guy gazed Robin, the unrest in his expression dissipating under the force of loathing he felt for Malcolm of Locksley. “I can understand Malcolm from… practical reasons, but I have no doubt that he wanted to get rid of my father who was unfortunate to return from the Holy Land to his family.”

“Guy, I wasn’t pleased with your father’s return,” Malcolm acknowledged. As his mind drifted back to the tragedy, his expression changed into vulnerability and torment, and he seemed to be struggling to keep his control. “I had a sort of bad foreboding in the days prior to the fire. And I was correct.”

“I can understand that, though with difficulty,” Guy admitted, albeit grudgingly. “Roger of Gisborne committed an act of high treason in the Holy Land. He was captured and spent many years in jail, while we were convinced that he fought for the liberation of Jerusalem and was a war hero.”

Archer frowned, looking at Guy with unspoken condemnation. “Again treachery in the Holy Land!”

Guy scowled at Archer. “He was captured and tortured; then he gave away an important secret about the location of the Christian forces. As a result, many Norman knights were killed in an unexpected Saracen raid.” He sighed. “I can somehow justify him because he was tortured.”

“Well, it is complicated.” Archer merely shrugged.

Guy smiled broken-heartedly. “It is.”

“Guy,” Malcolm addressed Gisborne in an unusually soft voice, “I didn’t wish Roger of Gisborne dead, and I didn’t hate him until…  You know what I mean.”

Guy nodded. “I do know. There is no need to elaborate.”

Suddenly, Malcolm started panting with breaths as he coughed. Then he was silent for some time, trying to catch his breath. “I persuaded Ghislaine to let Bailiff Longthorn and the villagers banish Roger of Gisborne.” He trailed off for a moment, his expression pained. “But I never meant to cause harm of any kind to the Gisbornes, even though I wasn’t very fond of you, Guy. I loved Ghislaine and I would–” His voice was cut off with a choking inhalation, succeeded by wracking coughs.

“Are you alright, Father?” Robin asked in a concerned tone.

Guy gave Malcolm an indifferent look, for he didn’t care for the old man at all. Archer’s face showed some emotion at the sight of his father’s deteriorating health, but he swiftly glanced away.

"I am fine," Malcolm lied. “I just caught a cold.”

“Don’t worry, Father,” Robin said softly as he climbed to his feet and stalked towards his father. “I will take care of you, but… you cannot return.” He sank to one knee, staring into his father’s pale blue eyes. “I will find a place for you, where you will live comfortably. I will think of something.”

“Robin, my Robin,” Malcolm gasped as he exhaled. He broke into a violent cough again.

Concern etched into his face, Robin stroked Malcolm's back in an attempt to soothe his father, feeling that he was on the verge of a breakdown. Whatever happened between them, he still had some affection for his father, even if he couldn’t say that he loved and respected Malcolm. “Do you feel better now? Do you need anything?” he inquired as Malcolm’s cough subsided.

“No, thank you, Son. I need nothing,” Malcolm replied gratefully, with a weak smile on his face. He raised his hand and traced the contours of Robin’s face with his finger; tears filled his eyes. “Robin, I still cannot believe… that you are alive.” His voice was cracking. “When I heard that you had died, I thought that… part of me died as well. I always tried to protect you, always.”

“Father, I am alive,” Robin whispered, his heart aching for Malcolm. “I am not dead.”

Malcolm's cheeks were wet from the tears streaming down his face. “Robin, you are so dear to me,” he said with deep fondness. “There are no words to describe how happy I am that you are alive!”

§§§

Watching Malcolm’s interaction with Robin, Archer bounced to his feet and instinctively recoiled as if he had been struck by fists too swift to be evaded. He stood rigid, his fists clenched, but his expression was impassive. Bitterness, envy, jealousy, sorrow, grief, loathing, and hatred – Malcolm’s exchange with Robin awakened all these feelings in his heart all at once. He was trying to keep himself tightly under control, but anger was gradually overwhelming him. He glanced away and swallowed hard, shaking his head; he took a step back towards the window.

Archer felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He swung around, and his eyes locked with Guy’s. “What do you want, Guy?” He didn’t want to talk; his mood was as ebony as the night outside.

“I am sorry that you have to watch this,” Guy said compassionately.

“It is not Robin’s fault,” Archer responded in a confident tone. “It is only Malcolm’s fault.”

“Robin could have been more considerate towards your feelings.”

Archer shook his head. “Robin has a noble heart. He could have treated our father rudely, but he still feels sympathetic with him.”

“Yes. Robin is quite forgiving of Lord Malcolm.”

Archer pursed his lips. “I have always been on my own. I have never had a father, and I grew up an orphan,” he said quietly, observing Robin soothing Malcolm – Robin’s hand was making circles on Malcolm’s back as the old man again broke into a cough. “I lived in an orphanage in York until I turned twelve. Everybody called me a peasant brat, for I have never known that a bastard of two nobles. I had known nothing about my parents until Malcolm found me in Constantinople.” He emitted a heavy sigh. “I have never known what father’s love is.”

Guy looked at his newly found half-brother, feeling his heart skip a beat at the pain he saw in Archer’s eyes. "I am sorry that you grew up an orphan. I am sorry for troubles that befell you.”

Archer’s lips thinned into a hard line, and he hissed, “I blame only one man – my own father.”

Guy nodded. “Yes, it is not Robin’s fault.”

“I have always wanted to know why my parents abandoned me,” Archer continued, tearing his gaze from Guy and staring into the darkness outside. “At least now I know that Malcolm planned to marry our mother, but the fire changed everything.”

“Many things could have gone differently.”

Archer cast a contemptuous gaze at Malcolm who was still conversing quietly with Robin. “But my father survived, fled, and was in hiding for years. He left in an orphanage, and for that I hate him.”

“Your feelings are understandable, Archer.”

Archer’s face lit up with a smile. “During the months we spent together, I grew to love Robin.”

Guy's brows rose in surprise. “Really?”

Archer inclined his head in confirmation. “Robin treated me with the kindness which I don’t deserve after siding with Prince John and Vaisey,” he stated as his eyes held Guy’s. “But he listened to my story and understood my motives after I had told him about my meeting with Malcolm in Constantinople.” He smiled affectionately in the direction of Robin. “Robin is an amazing man.”

Guy was really surprised that Archer had such deep affection for Robin. “I don’t know him well enough. I believe that Robin still loathes me, although today he said that misjudged me.”

“No, you are wrong: Robin doesn’t hate and despise you. He is relatively indifferent to you.”

“Indifferent?”

“Now Robin is indifferent to many things, and he doesn’t deal with the things which can be postponed for a future. He must be focused; he cannot afford to squander his strengths recklessly.”

“But no matter how you spell it, Robin dislikes me a lot.”

Archer cocked his head, his lips curling up into a small smile. “Robin revels in teasing you, but you are not the only one whom he treats this way. He mocks not only his enemies but also his friends.”

Guy supplied angrily, “He may be so infuriating. He takes pleasure in reminding me of my mistakes.”

“Robin hasn’t forgiven you yet,” Archer said quietly. “And he is very cautious with you.”

“I don’t need Robin’s forgiveness. I need to forgive myself for many vile deeds, including for my attempts on King Richard’s life, for trying to murder Robin, and for killing people at the sheriff’s order.”

Guy didn’t need Robin’s friendship; he had no doubt that they would never be friends. Yet, he wanted to gain Robin’s respect and liked the idea of developing some sort of camaraderie between the legend of England and him. In too many ways, Robin was everything that Guy dreamt of being but would never be, and his feelings of envy and jealousy would probably never ebb away – if they would, he would be astonished. But nobody needed to know that; he would keep this secret in the sanctuary of his soul.

Archer gave Guy a long look; then he broke into a ringing laughter. “During our journey to Acre, I took a liking to you, Guy. You are not a bad man.”

A feeling of surprise and disbelief swept through Guy. “I can hardly believe you, Archer. Are you acting like Robin: are you kidding me and making jest of serious things?”

Archer winked at him. “I have no reason to lie to you.”

“Then I want to believe you.”

“You should,” Archer replied teasingly. “I will be glad to talk to you more often.”

“And so will I.” Warmth filled Guy’s anguished and tortured heart. Guy was delighted to learn that he had another half-brother – Archer. To his utter surprise, he had been saddened by King Richard’s cold and hostile attitude towards him in Acre, for Richard was his brother who apparently despised him. Richard would never have a deep affection for Guy, Isabella hated him wholeheartedly, but at least now Guy had another chance to establish a friendly relationship with one of his half-brothers.

Robin and Malcolm continued talking while Archer and Guy watched the two other men.

Robin uttered a long sigh. Feelings of pity and sorrow for his father’s misfortunes flooded him, but he still was confused with his feelings. He swung his gaze to Archer and saw the poorly hidden pain in his brother’s eyes, realizing that the tender scene between him and Malcolm hurt Archer.

“Father, I promise you that everything will be alright.” Robin’s voice was tight.

“You are being optimistic, Robin.” Malcolm’s tear-stained eyes were locked with Robin’s. His heart leaped in his chest at the sight of concern shining in his son’s eyes; he knew that Robin had been pleased to see him alive. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.”

Malcolm was going to say something else, but he again started coughing, a harsh, wracking sound from deep in his body. Still remaining on one knee, Robin wrapped his arm around Malcolm’s back.

“Father, you are sick,” Robin said, concern visible on his face, which he was no longer able to conceal despite his ambivalent feelings for Malcolm. “I will ask Djaq to examine you. She is an experienced physician; she saved my life, and she will be able to help you.”

“It matters not, Son. I am old, and I may die any day, perhaps even today,” Malcolm answered.

Robin frowned. “You shouldn’t speak so.”

“Twice I attempted to take my own life,” Malcolm confided to his eldest son, lowering his head. “But I was a coward to commit suicide because I feared hellfire. I had to go on living, hating myself.”

Robin shook his head disapprovingly, and Archer, who had also heard Malcolm’s confession, stared at his father with wide eyes full of pity. Guy smirked, satisfied that Malcolm was suffering.

Robin cleared his throat. “We haven’t finished yet.” He rose to his feet and returned to his chair.

“We haven’t,” Guy echoed.

Archer took a log in the corner and threw it in the hearth to keep the fire burning and the room warm. The night was chilly, and the cold wind howled loudly outside the small cottage, shaking trees violently.

Archer returned to the window and stopped next to Guy. “It won’t be cold here.”

Robin turned his eyes to Archer. “Thank you, Archer.”

“You are welcome, Robin,” Archer said with a cordial smile on his face; but his smile changed into a grimace of revulsion as he glanced at Malcolm. “I don’t care for this man who calls himself my father. I have no reason to like and respect him, and I have no obligation to him.” He smiled again. “But I care for you, Robin. You may feel worse in cold English climate, and we need you healthy and strong.”

“Thank you, brother,” Robin told Archer in a heartfelt tone. He stared at Malcolm for a moment before he released a sigh and looked back at Archer. “But I think that you should care at least a little for the man without whom you would have never been born. He is your father, after all!”

“And why should I care for him?” Archer started pacing the room. “I know that this man lost everything – his wife, his friends, his children, and every penny in the world, but it is only his fault.”

“This man is your father,” Robin repeated with more emphasis.

“Lord Malcolm abandoned Archer many years ago, and he lost the right to call Archer his son,” Guy entered the conversation. “Even though he had to hide, he could have taken a better care of Archer. He could have arranged that the boy was taken to the Locksley household even after his fake death.”

Malcolm glanced away, staring into the flames. He was totally ashamed of himself.

“I am not interested in your opinion, Gisborne,” Robin nearly shouted. “It is only between Archer and my father.”

“It is my deal because Archer is my half-brother!” Guy protested.

“Shut up, you scum!” Robin said through clenched teeth. “I may remind you of your own crimes! In the Holy Land, you almost committed blasphemy – twice! I stopped you in time!”

The reference to two regicides in Acre sent Guy over the cliff of insanity. He wasn’t a pious man, but he still believed that killing a brother was blasphemy. “Keep your mouth shut, Locksley!” he screamed. “I won’t obey you when we are not on a battlefield!”

“Stop! Stop right now!” Archer roared.

Robin gazed away, and an acid smile curved his lips. A twinge of anger stirred in Guy’s heart as his eyes registered Robin’s smile, but he shook his head and worked to suppress his anger.

Archer raised a brow. “Now tell me, Robin, why did you accuse Guy of blasphemy?”

Malcolm took it upon himself to reply. “Robin means that a regicide is a blasphemous act.”

“Ah, I see,” Archer breathed. “I don’t believe that kings are God incarnates on earth. However, I agree that killing a king is not the right thing to do; it is a grave crime.”

Guy sneered. “Archer, you are speaking like Robin.”

“At least he is not like you, Gisborne,” Robin retorted, frowning at Guy.

For a while, Guy, Robin, and Archer didn’t speak, each of them looking at Malcolm of Locksley. Each of them experienced a strange feeling of indissoluble bond forming between them, which puzzled them.

Silence blanketed the room. As it became much darker in the cottage, Robin asked Archer to lit up two candles; then Archer himself seated himself on the bench, waiting for someone to break the silence. Guy continued standing near the window, looking at Malcolm with slightly narrowed eyes.

Malcolm glanced at his youngest son. “Archer,” he called, the bitterness of what still needed to be said difficult to bear. “I am guilty of abandoning you, Son. I left you in an orphanage, intending to adopt you after marrying Ghislaine, but I didn’t do that.” He paused for a moment, hesitating, and the guilt pushed him to continue. “I was badly burnt in the fire, and it took me months to recover.” He sighed. “Then I could do something for you, Archer, but I didn’t do anything for… a long time.”

Archer eyed his father scornfully. “You say that you loved my mother, but you left me, her son, in an orphanage. You didn’t care that I would grow up parentless and in poverty!”

“Archer, I did nothing for many years, but then–” Malcolm’s voice broke off, shame tinting his posture as he hung head. “My old friend, Sir Edward Fitzwalter of Knighton, knew about you. He acted as Robin’s legal guardian after my death, raising Robin as his own son. He also offered me to take you from an orphanage to Locksley or to one of my estates in Huntingdonshire. Edward thought that we could make up a story that you were my illegitimate son not with Ghislaine, but with another woman.”

“And you refused,” Archer inferred.

Malcolm lifted his eyes and glanced at Archer, guilt engraved into each and every line of his wrinkled face. “I had to abandon you,” he forced the words out. “Archer, everything I did at that moment was necessary for Robin. It was dangerous to bring you to Locksley and any other estate of mine, while Bailiff Longthorn was alive and while–” He trailed off, for he couldn’t say that he had feared to place Robin’s life in danger during the reign of King Henry II. He was searching for a sign of understanding on Archer’s face, but he could see only disdain. “You don’t know everything. You cannot know.”

“You didn’t want me as a son,” Archer continued coldly.

Guy and Robin didn’t interfere, allowing Archer and Malcolm to sort out their differences.

“Archer,” Malcolm said, his voice catching with the force of his guilt and anguish, “please don’t say this! I loved you even when I left you in an orphanage.” His gaze shifted to Robin. “I did that for Robin.”

Robin cast his eyes down. He felt guilty, very guilty – for all the times when someone was sacrificed to give him a peaceful life of a rich earl and ascertain his safety. Guy’s wellbeing and good prospects for a possible future had been sacrificed by Queen Eleanor and King Richard, and Archer had been deprived of his family and had been condemned to poverty and vagabondage. Many other people had been murdered at Eleanor and Richard’s orders in order to hide the dark mysteries of the past. The secret of his true birth damned too many people to unhappiness and sufferings, Robin mused with bitterness.

“Damn you, I am fed up! Stop speaking in riddles!” a baffled and exasperated Archer cried out.

“Archer, don’t ask such questions because you won’t get replies,” Guy recommended, his voice apparently emotional. “Just take for granted that there were some important reasons why Lord Malcolm had to leave you in an orphanage. Even if I don’t approve of his choice to leave you, Archer, I can understand why he did that. And he did that for Robin, although it is unfair to you.”

Robin smiled at Guy shamefacedly. “Finally, we are in agreement, Gisborne.”

Guy turned to Robin and smiled back bashfully. “For once, Locksley.”

Archer couldn’t just leave the topic. “Let me guess, you needed to protect Robin from someone.”

“Enough,” Malcolm said rudely, displeased with Archer’s insistence. “As for abandoning you, Archer, I have to inform you that you were completely forgotten, as you put it, only during the first six years after your birth. Later Sir Edward of Knighton regularly traveled to York and gave money for you to a local priest; that priest served in the church located near that orphanage, as Edward told me.”

“Sir Edward knew everything throughout all these years?” Guy wanted to know, although he knew the answer in advance; he remembered the conversation with Thornton and Bridget.

“Yes,” Malcolm confirmed. “He… was helping me from the beginning.”

Guy nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

Archer snorted in amusement. “How very generous of you, Malcolm!”

Robin didn’t know what to say. He knew about Edward’s role in the preservation of the secret.

Malcolm’s gaze stayed locked with Archer’s. “Archer, I once visited you in an orphanage and brought money for you.” He sighed. “You were a handsome boy, and I knew from first glance that I loved you. But I couldn’t take you to Robin, and I couldn’t be your father. So I gave money to that priest and left.”

“I don’t remember that,” Archer murmured, not looking at his father.

Malcolm smiled wistfully. “Archer, you were a six-year-old boy when it happened,” he said slowly, spelling every word with effort, for it was difficult for him to speak about his mistakes. “But one day Edward told me that you disappeared from an orphanage. It was rumored that you went to the East on a great adventure. And it was the moment when I decided to find you.”

“Malcolm, don’t repeat a sorrowful story which you told me in Constantinople,” Archer grumbled, his expression browned off. “I know about your captivity in the Holy Land, where you spent several years before finding me.” He laughed. “But even this heartrending story won’t touch me.”

Guy looked startled. “What? Captivity?”

“Yes,” Malcolm corroborated. “I spent several years in Saracen captivity, at first somewhere near the fortress of Damascus and then in a village near Jerusalem. With God’s help, I managed to escape. I traveled directly to the Byzantine Empire, where I also experienced many misfortunes.” He sighed. “In Constantinople, I found Archer by sheer chance and told him the truth about his birth.”

Archer gave a short nod. “This is exactly what happened.” He cast an apologetic look at Robin. “And after I had learned the truth, I started to hate you, Robin, although later I understood my mistake.”

Robin flashed a swift smile. “Archer, it is forgotten and forgiven.” His gaze slid to Malcolm. “Father, how did the Saracens capture you?  I fought in the Holy Land for more than five years in total, and it seems that you were so close to me while I knew nothing.”

A wry smile lifted one corner of Malcolm's mouth. “Robin, you couldn’t know anything. I also didn’t know that you had joined King Richard’s Crusade; I learned about that only after my return to England.”

Guy scoffed. “It is a dark irony of fate!”

“Gisborne, I keep your opinion to yourself,” Robin threw over his shoulder, his gaze flying from Guy to Malcolm. “How and why were you captured, Father?”

Malcolm was happy that at least one of his two sons began to treat him in a friendly way. “I made up my mind to find Archer. I traveled to Outremer in a pilgrim’s disguise. I boarded a ship in Marseilles and sailed to the East.” His face turned crestfallen at the memories flashing in his mind. “There was a violent storm near the shores of Tyre, and the ship was wrecked. I survived, and together with other survivors we made our way to the shore, praying and hoping for salvation. But on the shore, we were immediately attacked by the Saracens. We were shackled and became slaves.”

“Not a pleasant experience,” Guy commented frigidly.

Robin looked absolutely shocked. “Father, you… survived through hell.”

“He did,” Archer agreed in a dispassionate voice. “But he deserved what he got, didn’t he?”

“I did deserve to suffer,” Malcolm agreed.

Robin stared at Archer, his eyes glistening with condemnation. “Please do me a favor and stop being so mean, Archer. Don’t forget that our father was trying to find you and do right by you!”

Archer gazed at Robin and said, “Robin, you know that I am tolerating Malcolm only because you asked me about that for one evening. There is nothing that can change my attitude towards this man.”

Robin understood his brother’s feelings. “At least be civil, please.”

“I will,” Archer pledged.

“Archer, I understand why you hate me; I accept it.” Malcolm’s heart twisted in pain at the thought that he had lost a chance to gain Archer’s love. “But remember that I love you despite everything.”

Archer glanced away. “It doesn’t matter. It changes nothing.”

Malcolm nodded, resigned that Archer would probably never warm up to him. They sat in a long, uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the crackling of the fire in the hearth. But Malcolm knew that his confessions were not finished for this evening.

“Guy and Archer,” Malcolm addressed. “I want to tell you the truth about your mother’s death.”

Guy leaned against the wall, stiffening his back. “And what do we have to know? Our mother died in the fire, together with… my father.” He clenched his teeth. “I dropped a torch, but the fire from the torch wasn’t enough to burn down the manor. Bailiff Longthorn finished the deal by intimidating the villagers and pushing them to set the fire outside the manor. The bailiff was the real murderer.”

“There is something else,” Malcolm said quietly, looking down, on the floor.

“Explain what you mean.” Archer’s voice was low and all the more dangerous.

“What else are you hiding, Lord Malcolm? Some secrets in the woods?” Guy asked in a derisive snort.

“It is time to tell you the truth,” Malcolm said, his voice tinged with self-loathing. “Please believe me that I loved Ghislaine. I always did; I always will…”

Guy scoffed. “But Ghislaine loved my father even was after his banishment from Locksley.”

Malcolm sighed dejectedly. “I think that she loved him, but she also loved me.”

Guy sneered. “Fantasies, Lord Malcolm?

“Shut up, Gisborne!” Robin commanded, his eyes shooting daggers towards Guy. His tone was almost deliberately coarse because he didn’t like to see Guy insulting his father. “Do I need to bring to your attention some facts from your mother’s biography?”

“There is no need, Locksley. I remember,” Guy grumbled. It was very painful that his mother had two extramarital relationships and that he was a result of Ghislaine’s liaison with King Henry.

“What do you mean?” Archer intervened. “If it concerns my mother, I want to know!”

Robin sighed, his gaze locked with Malcolm’s, both men unsure what to answer. They kept silent.

Guy made a low sound of pain; turning away, he walked to the table and sank to one of the benches there. “Archer, our mother was King Henry’s mistress before she married… my father. She was young and beautiful, and the king wooed her. She resisted his advances, but he was persistent and she gave in.” He sighed heavily. “After the king had discarded her, her reputation was in tatters. It was when Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine married her off to Sir Roger of Gisborne, my father.” He was again amazed how difficult it was to refer to Roger as his father.

Archer looked startled. “Well, I guess kings always get what they want.”

“Precisely,” Guy agreed. “But our mother, Ghislaine, had fallen in love with… my father, and we had lived as a happy family until he went to fight in the Holy Land. Then mother found consolation in Lord Malcolm’s arms, believing that my father was dead.”

A smile tugged at Archer’s his lips. “Ghislaine is a beautiful name.”

Guy smiled. “Our mother was beautiful, clever, and intelligent. She was very compassionate and kind to the peasants as well. She was a good woman, although she had her faults.”

“I would love to know her,” Archer said with a large grin on his face.

“I will tell her more about her,” Guy promised.

Robin cleared his throat to attract attention to himself. “I believe father wanted to say something.”

Guy and Archer turned to Malcolm, astounded to see the old man looking so uneasy. Deafening silence settled over them for a moment while Malcolm was mustering his courage to speak.

“On the night of the fire, something serious happened inside Gisborne Manor,” Malcolm reminisced. “When the fire started, I sent Guy and Isabella out of the manor for their safety. Then I went upstairs to Ghislaine’s bedchamber, intending to save her; but Roger was already there.” His chest heaved with emotions he could hardly contain as he looked between Archer and Guy. “When Roger came, Ghislaine just gave birth to Archer and was very exhausted.”

Guy clenched his fists. “I remember very well what you did, Lord Malcolm.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know who attacked whom, but I heard a hissing clash of metal as you fought with… my father. I wanted to throw you out of the manor, but I couldn’t stay there because flames were licking up the wooden walls in the great hall. Isabella and I had to leave the house.”

Robin looked at Malcolm apprehensively. “Father, you must tell us everything.”

Malcolm was barely able to speak, gathering his last strengths to make a confession. “Roger and I were locked in a violent fight, while Ghislaine… begged us to stop.” He paused, unable to speak. He bent down and put his head in his hands. Images of Ghislaine beseeching them to stop fighting and then of her falling to the floor began to leap and collide in his mind.  He was sitting like this for a few long, agonizing moments, and when he finally raised his head and stared into the fire, everyone could see tears shimmering in his eyes. “Ghislaine tried to separate us and stood between Roger and me, and then I pushed her back.” His voice sounded strange and rough in his ears.

“Go on,” Archer demanded impatiently.

Guy glared at Malcolm, his heart pounding harder. Robin lowered his head in shame for his father.

Malcolm repeated, “Ghislaine stood between Roger and me, and I pushed her back,” he repeated, looking at his hands folded over his chest. “She fell to the floor and hit her head – she was dead. It was an accident! I didn’t mean to… kill her! I would have never hurt her deliberately!”

Malcolm’s announcement was met with a deathly, inauspicious silence. Guy and Archer paled, shocked. Robin didn’t find strength to look at his father. Shock possessed them, the numbness almost painful. Nobody dared utter a word, and the silence was becoming deafening. A rush of thoughts, feelings, and words swirled in their heads before suddenly and inexplicably falling into place – Malcolm of Locksley had accidentally killed Ghislaine of Gisborne, and that was something Robin, Archer, and Guy didn’t expect to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was about Robin, Archer, Guy, and Malcolm. We needed these three men to meet with Malcolm and talk about the past to sort out the existing differences and reveal other mysteries.
> 
> Robin saved Guy’s life because it was the right thing to do, as he himself says. He is ready to accept Guy as one of his men who will fight for King Richard and against Prince John. However, Robin has no reason to love Guy and instantly forgive him. He doesn’t trust Guy and their alliance is difficult for both of them, but I promise that Guy would prove himself as Robin’s loyal and trustworthy ally. Robin is being sarcastic and mocks Guy, but it is in character for him; Guy responds in a similar manner, although Robin is more sarcastic and wins their verbal skirmishes in most cases. I promise that Guy’s relationship with Robin will change: there will be camaraderie, competition, and easy banter between them once Robin begins to trust Guy and Guy gets accustomed to be Robin’s ally.
> 
> This story/novel has a very sophisticated back story for Robin and Guy (you may refresh your memory by reading the summary of this back story in chapter 10 in “Quintessence of Life: Mysteries of the Past”, the first part of the trilogy). Malcolm of Locksley, Roger of Gisborne, and Ghislaine of Gisborne are not saints, and each of them wronged the two others. Robin and Guy wronged one another as well, although I want to be bold and say that I think Guy wronged Robin much more than Robin wronged him. Now all the things are in the open between Robin and Guy, and they no longer hate each other.
> 
> I wonder what you think of Malcolm. He is not a bad man, but a coward who would have never become a man like Robin Hood. I also think that his fate is tragic, and I pity him despite his mistakes. I do hope that you liked Archer’s conversation with Malcolm; Archer is not going to like his father anytime soon.
> 
> Maybe you have already noticed the changes in the character arcs of two main characters – the arcs of Robin and Guy – the disillusionment arc for Robin and the redemption arc for Guy.
> 
> Both Robin and Guy have changed a lot. Robin’s death in Imuiz changed Robin, and he has become is a disillusioned and disappointed idealist. Robin is struggling to find the right path in his new life, after his resurrection, but it is not easy for him. You will see Robin struggle to accept reality and the fact that Robin Hood’s cause is ultimately futile in this part of the trilogy. Guy has already stepped on the path to redemption, and I tried very hard to show the depth of changes in him after his imprisonment.


	4. Departure to London

**Chapter 4**

**Departure to London**

Guy of Gisborne jumped to his feet and began to pace back and forth, wringing his hands and muttering incomprehensible gibberish. He paused in the middle of the room and looked at Malcolm with eyes full of hatred, black rage bubbling within him, threatening to drown him. He hated the old man wholeheartedly.

Guy cursed aloud, his mouth tightening as if he didn't know if he should – or could – get to his feet and kill the man who had murdered his mother. “You killed my mother,” he whispered.

Malcolm looked at Guy, his eyes full of shame and regret. “It was an accident. Ghislane hit her head, and she was dead when she hit the ground.” His eyes glistened with tears. “I would never have hurt Ghislane intentionally! I didn’t want her dead! I loved her with all my heart!”

“I don’t know what to say.” Robin looked away. He found himself barely unable to keep his nerves any longer in check, for too many events had happened just during one day.

“Damned murderer,” Archer spat. He was shocked beyond measure, for Malcolm hadn’t told him anything about Ghislane’s death when they had met in Constantinople.

Guy took several steps to Malcolm. When he started speaking, his voice was harder than granite and colder than ice. “All these years, I blamed myself for murdering my parents, before I learned many interesting things in Acre.” He gnashed his teeth, his eyes darkening with rage. “I had carried this guilt with me every day before I learned that Bailiff Longthorn had murdered my parents! Now I know that my mother’s lover accidentally killed her!”

Robin swung his gaze to Archer whose face contorted in disgust. “Archer, Bailiff Longthorn set up the fire outside Gisborne Manor because he planned to kill Guy’s parents and our father in order to take our lands. He assumed that after their deaths he would kill me, and with my death he would be given my lands.”

“Did the bailiff try to take your life, Robin?” Archer’s voice was nonplussed.

Robin gave a nod. “Longthorn tried to kill me at least… five times, but he always failed.” His voice was trembling. “Last time, I almost died, but Sir Edward and… my father’s friends rescued me.”

“Please forgive me, Robin,” Malcolm murmured, a flush of embarrassment spreading across his face. “Robin, by the time when you were taken prisoner by the bailiff, I had already recovered from my wounds, but I wasn’t around my former estates in Locksley and in Huntingdonshire.”

Robin cocked his head, regarding his father with interest. “Father, did you know that Longthorn had taken me captive and that I had disappeared for more than three months before I was rescued?”

Malcolm’s expression shifted into fright, and that was enough to convince Robin that his father had been aware of Bailiff Longthorn’s horrible assassination attempts on his life. Robin saw shame in every feature of his father’s scarred face, and he averted his gaze, feeling betrayed, rejected, and mostly just hurt.

“So, Lord Malcolm, you left Robin to his fate,” Guy voiced the bitter truth. “You are not a man.”

Archer jumped to his feet. “I cannot take it any longer. I can no longer stay in the same room with this man.” He swallowed bile in his throat. “Robin and Guy, I will wait for you outside.” He walked to the exit and slammed the door behind him so loudly that the walls of the small cottage trembled.

Robin said nothing, his heart thundering wildly in his chest. Guy looked between Malcolm and Robin, feeling burning anger boil in his blood, for Malcolm had caused so much harm in his life.

Robin turned his gaze at his father, but for a long moment, he didn’t speak. “Father, did you try to find out where Bailiff Longthorn imprisoned me while he was waiting for King Henry’s arrival from Normandy, planning to give me to the king alive and only then kill me?” His voice was thin, strained, reflecting overtones of the icy chill in his chest.

Malcolm couldn’t tell his son falsehood. “Robin, I am ashamed of myself for the many things I did wrong.” His voice trailed off to a choked rasp, his emotions too raw to let him look calm. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to find you, Son. I hoped that Queen Eleanor and Edward would save you.”

Guy heard Robin's sharp intake of breath and felt his own chest tighten for a moment. He pitied Robin at the moment, feeling a strange form of camaraderie forming between them: they had been betrayed by the same man, but Robin was in a worse situation because Malcolm was his father.

“Father, you betrayed me,” Robin stated grievously.

“He betrayed both of us,” Guy added after a moment.

Malcolm looked at Robin imploringly. “Robin,” he said with innate tenderness, “in three months after your disappearance, I met Edward in the bewitched woods in Sherwood.” He coughed. “Edward and I were in constant contact during all these years, and we always met there. He rehearsed the story of what had happened to you, and he said that he had tried to find you without any result for many weeks.”

“Go on,” Robin prompted, not looking at his father.

“Edward pledged that he would continue searching for you, Son. I hoped that he would succeed,” Malcolm reminisced, his face contorted in shame. “We knew that Bailiff Longthorn had kidnapped you, but there was hope that you were alive because King Henry was still in Normandy at that time.”

“What happened later?” Robin’s heart was in tatters.

Malcolm sighed. “In several days, Edward and I again met in the bewitched woods. Edward told me that Prince Richard had come to him and promised that he would do everything to rescue you.”

Robin raised a hand, signaling to stop. “I know the rest of the story. Save your breath.”

“This is preposterous!” Guy moved towards the bench where Archer had seated before. He settled there and gazed with shrewd eyes at Malcolm. “Lord Malcolm, you don’t care for me, and I don’t care for you either. You ran away from Locksley after the fire and left Robin and me to face the consequences.” His lips lengthened in a mocking smile. “Yet, there is one thing that… amazes me.”

Malcolm frowned. “What?”

Robin sat unmoving, his heart seized with black despair. A shock went through him at the thought that he had survived only thanks to Queen Eleanor and King Richard. Before his father confirmed his worst suspicions about his salvation from Bailiff Longthorn, he had dared hope that Malcolm had probably been concerned about his fate during those dark days. Now he realized that he had been mistaken and his hopes had been empty. He had never thought that he would ever be so very disappointed in his own father.

Guy shook his head in disbelief. “My lord, you sacrificed your normal life and went into hiding, so that your beloved son, your Robin, could survive because King Henry wanted you dead after Roger of Gisborne had revealed the secret of Robin’s true parentage to his sovereign.” He laughed derisively. “And then you abandoned your small son in a great trouble? And why did you make sacrifices for his sake?”

“I hoped that Eleanor would arrange Robin’s rescue,” Malcolm repeated.

Guy threw his head back and laughed. “The imprisoned queen?”

“I was a coward,” Malcolm acknowledged.

Robin looked at the old man as if he were a stranger to him. “My real mother, Queen Eleanor, begged Richard to save me, her illegitimate son, the result of her secret love affair with you, Father.” He laughed sardonically. “Richard agreed to do that for his mother, not for me, because he felt nothing for me at that time.”

“I owe a debt of endless gratitude to King Richard,” Malcolm said emphatically.

Robin laughed poignantly. “King Richard and Sir Edward found me and released me from captivity. Richard made a wicked deal with King Henry, but this vile arrangement let me keep my title and lands. Later, Richard became my friend and offered me his guidance; he is one of the few people with whom I shared my fears and insecurities.” For a moment, his face was a personification of mental torture before turning blank. “Amusingly, my real father didn’t care that I could have died in a damp, cold cell.”

“I cared for you, Robin! I cared!” Malcolm choked back a sob of fear that he had just lost Robin.

Robin looked thoughtful, his expression impassive. “I remember myself in childhood, Father. You always gave me high-minded lectures about the necessity to take responsibility, like in the case with an arrow when Guy was blamed for my mischief.” He let out a morbid laugh. “You lectured me about life and death, about lies and responsibility, and about my future as a lord.” He sighed. “And all this was for nothing.”

“Robin,” Malcolm groaned. But Robin didn’t react.

Instead, Robin looked at Guy. “I wronged you in that case with an arrow. But I learned my lesson and became a better man. I have never lied since then.”

“Let’s forget that.” Guy gave him an ambiguous look, not knowing what to say.

Robin glanced at his father; he wore a decidedly serious expression. “Father, you are a hypocrite and a coward. I don’t hate you, but I cannot say that I love you either.” He flashed his familiar grin for a moment, before it faded under the weight of a much harsher expression. “I am, sorry, but I have no love for you.”

Guy watched Robin with sad eyes. He had never thought that he would ever feel such a deep sympathy with Robin Hood of all people in the world, but the moment came. He had already seen Robin without a mask in the Holy Land, when a dying Robin had pleaded with the king to pardon him, and now he again saw Robin not as an arrogant, spoiled brat, but in a completely different light. He felt guilty of ever trying to kill Robin, to destroy a wonderful, honest, compassionate, and courageous man he could see in Robin.

“Robin, I have always loved you more than any other living creature in the world.” Malcolm fought hard to prevent tears from spilling, but, nonetheless, his eyes filled with tears that trickled down his cheeks, like silver rivers of pain. “I have always loved you more than Archer.”

Robin felt his body trembling. Malcolm’s confession of his deep love for him melted his heart a little bit. And yet, that didn’t dissolve the bitterness and discomfort at the thought that his old life had been full of lies. Memories of his hatred – hatred for murdering his father – filled his heart with red-hot anger. But the most painful thing was that Malcolm had been a coward to try to save his own son from Longthorn.

Guy eyed Malcolm with apparent scorn. “I expected nothing else from you, Lord Malcolm.”

“You cannot be serious, Father,” Robin snapped, more than a bit irritated. “Archer is your son, and if you did truly love Lady Ghislane, you should love the child she gave you.”

“Robin, I said the truth. I have always loved you more than Archer,” Malcolm reiterated in a tense voice. “I never loved Eleanor of Aquitaine, but I loved you, and I would have given up everything for you. But I was a coward and hoped that Eleanor would save you from Longthorn.”

Robin lowered his gaze, his cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment as the conversation had shifted to such delicate topics. “I read in your diary that you wanted Queen Eleanor because you considered it a rare honor to be in the queen’s bed and because she attracted you as a woman.”

Malcolm raked his hand through his grizzled hair. “Eleanor wanted me too. She had many lovers. She–”

Robin interrupted his father. “The Queen Mother’s private life is none of your business.” He clenched and unclenched his fists as he struggled to force down the growing anger. “I was shocked that you abandoned your young wife, Lady Elizabeth of Locksley, when she was carrying your child. Instead of staying with her, you went to royal court, where you entertained yourself at feasts and other festivities while she waited for you in Locksley, writing numerous letters to you and begging you to return home.”

Malcolm dropped his gaze in shame. “Robin, I loved Elizabeth, but–”

Robin cut his father off sharply. “I know what you will say, Father. You wrote that your life was very dull in Locksley and that you wanted to live in the splendor of court.” He grinned wickedly, and his face had an evil expression as he began a devastating mocking assault. “Of course, the young, handsome, and wealthy Earl of Huntingdon coveted to be in the center of attention! Books are the quietest and most constant of friends, but Lord Malcolm wanted something more interesting to make his blood pump faster and hotter than it had in years. He yearned to bed as many beauties as he could, and he was itching to earn King Henry’s favor, with the only distinction of becoming Queen Eleanor’s favorite instead of his liege’s.”

Malcolm was still keeping his eyes downcast. “Robin, please… please…”

"Are you fearful to hear the truth about your mistakes?" Robin challenged.

His son’s voice was voice was as cold as an arctic wind, and Malcolm shivered. “I am not afraid!”

Robin canted his head toward his left shoulder, observing his father with an ironic smile on his face. “You must not fear, Father. Fear is the mind-killer, and I don’t want you to be dim-witted while we are talking.” He snickered. “You say that you loved Lady Elizabeth of Locksley, but you betrayed her because your lust for the Queen of England overweighed your love for your wife!” He let out a bitter laugh. “This is so great, Father! It was so knightly of you to desert your pregnant wife! I might even begin to think that gallantry towards women is a weakness of the heart, or, perhaps, a defect of constitution.”

“How pathetic, Lord Malcolm,” Guy commented, appalled. Watching Robin’s exchange with his father, he began to appreciate Robin’s dry humor for the first time in his life. In the past, Robin’s sarcasm had always enraged him, but now he could see a distinctive charm in Robin’s taunting speeches.

Robin’s venomous outburst hurt Malcolm deeply, but he ignored it. He parried tartly, “Robin, you are so intelligent, smart, and witty. Your spirited speeches are mesmerizing and powerful, and they are serving to keep your audiences on the edge of their seats. And yet, you have forgotten one very simple thing.” He sniggered. “If I had never had an affair with Eleanor, there would have been no Robin Fitzooth of Locksley and no Robin Hood – there would have been no Robin.”

"Exactly," Robin answered. “But I cannot say that I like the truth, although I have accepted it.”

“Where is this diary now? Did you destroy it?” Malcolm cringed at the memory of his failure to get rid of such an important piece of evidence.

“Richard said that he had burnt it,” Robin informed. “He found me in a state of deep shock, when I was holding your diary in my hands. Then he told me the truth about my birth and the old conflict between you, Sir Roger, and Lady Ghislane.” He sighed. “Then Richard took the diary for reading.” His gaze slid to Guy. “This diary saved your life, Gisborne. If I hadn’t found it before your arrival in Acre, I would have never beseeched the king to spare your life.”

Guy shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Thank you for informing me about that.”

“You are welcome.” Robin waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, as if it were a trifle for him.

Malcolm gasped for air; he felt his face heat with embarrassment. “Robin, tell me the truth! Did you allow the king to read my diary?”

Robin flashed a mocking grin. “Why not? Richard deserved to know the truth about your life, Father. He has long been a part of the grand charade you have been playing for years.”

Guy leaped to his feet, then headed to the hearth. He threw two new logs into the fire. “Given how much Richard did for you, Locksley, I agree that he does deserve even more than reading a simple diary.”

Robin blinked. “This diary unsettled me a lot.”

“I fear to imagine what you felt.” Guy walked back to the bench and landed there.

Malcolm blushed to the roots of his grizzled hair, but he chose not to comment on his son’s actions. He looked at Robin straight in the eye. “Robin, you may ask me why I said those words about you and Archer.” He let out a sigh of frustration. “I loved Elizabeth, but she died in childbirth, together with my daughter. But then they gave me you, Robin, and I felt that I was happy again. In your early childhood, I saw that there was something unusual in you, and I knew that you would become a great man.”

Robin shook his head disapprovingly. “You don’t know Archer. You cannot judge him.”

Malcolm continued, “Robin, you were destined to become a great man, whatever you believe me or not.” He smiled as his mind drifted back to the old days. “Even in childhood, when you behaved as a mischievous hellion and many noblemen advised me to be stricter towards you, I saw that you would grow up into a unique man.” His smile widened. “I was so sure of that because you are Eleanor’s son, and her blood made you England’s great hero. The blood of the Huntingdons – my blood and the blood of your other ancestors on paternal line – couldn’t have made you as great as Eleanor’s blood did.”

A tense silence settled between them as Robin reflected on his father’s words. “I don’t understand.”

“I imply that you have become the man you are thanks to your strong resemblance to Queen Eleanor,” Malcolm explained, his voice devilishly confident in a way that seemed almost preternatural. “You and she are alike in many ways. You both are strong, confident, smart, witty, fearless, willful, brave, conniving, vainglorious, and just great. Your grandfather, James, didn’t possess half of these qualities, and I don’t have them either. You are a fighter and a survivor, like Eleanor; I am neither a fighter nor a survivor.” 

A long, disconcerting silence ensued, broken only by the sound of the crackling fire.

“I don’t know what to say,” Robin uttered at last.

“I have to agree with Lord Malcolm,” Guy joined the conversation, his eyes focused on Robin. “Robin Hood hasn’t taken anything after his father, except for the handsome appearance of a Saxon lord.”

Robin said nothing. He was worn out from the day's activities and the emotional drain, and Malcolm’s confessions attenuated the rest of his strength. He didn’t want to think of his father now, diverting his attention to the most persistent problems. His thoughts tumbled through his head in kaleidoscopic fashion: the future was uncertain, the king was not in England and the country was ruled by Prince John in anarchy, John was going to have himself crowned in a few days and he had to blow the prince out of the water. Robin had too many things to worry about, feeling as though the very outcome of the struggle depended on upon his individual efforts – in a way, it was true because he would lead the battle against Prince John.

Robin stood up abruptly, feeling a nagging pain in his stomach; he had to get some rest to feel better. “I beg your pardon, but I have to leave now. Tomorrow we are departing to London.”

“And Archer is waiting for us outside.” Guy got to his feet as well.

“I know that you need to go.” Malcolm leaped to his feet, wobbly, and sat down again. He stared at Robin with pain-filled eyes and spoke plaintively. “I guess I will never see you again, Son.”

“You will see me again, Father,” Robin promised with a small smile on his face. He didn’t want to distress Malcolm more than he had already done. “Stay here, in this cottage, while I will be away. If you can do this, I will find you when I return to Nottingham. Then we will think… of something.”

Malcolm blinked in astonishment. “Robin, I need nothing from you.”

“I said that I would take care of you, and I will keep my word,” Robin assured the old man.

Guy measured Malcolm with an umbrageous look. “Tell me just one more thing, Lord Malcolm.” His eyes glittered dangerously. “Was it you who killed Bridget and Thornton in Locksley Manor?”

“Yes,” Malcolm replied directly. “I had to silence them to keep the secret.”

“It is not a secret anymore for Marian and me,” Guy noticed.

“At that time, it was a secret,” Malcolm shot back.

“And it will remain a secret for everyone, except for several people.” Guy pulled his gaze from Malcolm to Robin. He couldn’t read the impenetrable gaze of the sandy-haired man, but it intrigued him a lot. “I was labeled the murderer of Bridget and Thornton.”

Robin cast an apologetic gaze at Guy. “I know, and I am sorry for that, Gisborne.”

“And today, you, Malcolm, shot Allan when he wanted to save my life,” Guy’s cold voice spoke.

Malcolm pulled the hood on his head. “I made a mistake.”

Guy gave a hollow laugh. “Are you trying to cover your shame under the folds of your hood, my lord?”

Malcolm lifted his face and met Guy’s gaze boldly, with an open, but a wounded expression that made Guy flinch. “I know that I am guilty. You don’t need to remind me of it.”

Guy threw him a look of contempt. “I should kill you for murdering my mother and for causing so much harm to all of us, but I won’t do this. Just remember one thing: I will never forgive you, and in my eyes your sins increased tenfold with my new knowledge about the real events on the night of the fire."

“Enough, Gisborne,” Robin closed the topic in a harsh voice. “We have to go.”

“Yes, let’s go, Locksley,” Guy replied in an unusually gentle voice.

Holding himself rigidly, Robin plastered a smile on his face. Then he took several steps towards the exit; Guy followed him. Robin paused at the doorway, contemplating the hooded man who hung his head in despair mingled with shame, and Guy watched the two other men patiently. Sighing deeply, Robin bowed to his father slightly, more mockingly than gallantly, and opened the door. Guy walked out of the cottage without giving Malcolm a last glance.

It was a late night outside. Through the crowns of the trees, the moon shone in the dark sky, darkening, hiding, shining again, climbing until its exquisite sickle-point topped the trees.

“Thank you for letting me know that Lord Malcolm is alive,” Robin heard Guy’s quiet growl.

Robin turned to Guy who stood next to him, in a ribbon of moonlight. “I hope that you understand that nobody should know about his survival.”

“I know. No worries.”

“I am grateful to you for your not trying to kill my father.” Robin’s voice was little more than a shadow of his usual confident and teasing tone.

“There is no need to murder him,” Guy said. “He lives in shadows; he is a dead man walking.”

“You are cruel.” Robin’s voice was so low that it seemed like he was talking to himself.

Guy gifted Robin with a look of startled amazement. “Isn’t it painful for you that your father betrayed Archer, you, and me?”

Heat rose in Robin’s cheeks, flooding him with self-conscious anxiety. “He has already punished himself. It is enough! And he is my father, even if he seems a stranger to me.”

Guy suppressed a smile. Robin’s kindness impressed him a great deal, for he himself couldn’t say that he wouldn’t have sent his own father to hell if he were in Robin’s shoes. “That’s why I didn’t kill Malcolm.”

“What?” Robin was dumbfounded.

“I didn’t kill your father for Archer and you,” Guy clarified. “And I will not do that.”

Robin narrowed his eyes, not in anger but in surprise. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be grateful,” Guy said gloomily. “It is a trifle.”

“Are we going to return to the camp?” the voice of their half-brother coursed through the fresh night air. “Or are we going to catch a cold?” Then Archer appeared from behind a nearby tree.

“I am not cold,” Robin murmured, doing his best to offer a smile of reassurance. The truth was that he feared cold because it would undoubtedly cause excessive stiffness in the area around his healed wound.

Guy laughed. “Shadows will be far more forgiving than moonlight, Locksley.”

“Holy Mother of Jesus, Gisborne! You have a sense of humor!” Robin exclaimed gibingly.

Guy smirked. “Sometimes, I do have it, Locksley. You are not the only one who can mock people!”

Archer snorted. “Maybe you will embark on a new sparring match when we return to the camp.” His gaze wandered to Robin. “Robin, we have to go back to the camp because we must keep you warm.”

“Yes,” Robin consented. There was no need to play a hero when he felt unwell. “Let’s go.”

They returned to the outlaws’ camp in a somber silence. It was quiet in Sherwood, and the moonlit woods were alive with shadows that darted this way and that, growing larger and then receding. Shadows were a memento of Malcolm – a man of shadows who was dead for everyone, save for a few people.

As the three of them stalked along serpent paths in the depths of the woods, Robin had a strange feeling of newly-formed connection to Gisborne, but he banned the thoughts from his mind. Archer was his brother, not Guy. He could have become Guy’s stepbrother many years ago, but it hadn’t happened. His relationship with Gisborne would remain distant and strained, for Robin found himself unable to forget the pain which his former archenemy had caused him and the people whom he loved. But at least he no longer hated Guy and even felt some sympathy for the older man, which was better than their old animosity.

§§§

The next morning, Robin opened his eyes at dawn. Stretching his arms along his lean body, he nested his head between two pillows on his old bunk, surprised at how comfortable he felt there. It was a long while since he had slept in the outlaws’ camp last time, and he was spoiled by more comfortable conditions after his departure to Acre for the second time. He smiled at the thought that he had spent the whole night with a heap of pillows which Djaq put around his body to make his sleep more comfortable.

“Morning has just dawned,” Djaq murmured. She stood near the bunk, smiling at Robin.

Robin gave her a lazy smile. “What time is it?” Warmth filled his heart at the thought that he was at home, and somehow being in Sherwood breathed life into him.

“It is too early for you to depart to London. No worries, Robin.”

Robin threw his blanket aside and sprang from the bunk. “What are others doing?”

“Robert, Carter, Archer, and John awoke less than an hour ago,” she informed. “Robert and Archer went to Nottingham to investigate the situation. Carter is wandering somewhere in the forest. John awoke even earlier than your friends did, and he headed to Locksley to make drops. The others are sleeping.”

Robin arched a brow. “John went to make drops?”

“Yes. Allan and John carried out the usual responsibilities of the gang after they had arrived from the Holy Land, thinking that you had died. They made many donations in your name, Robin.”

“I will have to thank them later.”

“Anyway, the peasants in your lands don’t live as bad as they did after your first return. After all, King Richard not only pardoned you, but also exempted your people from taxation for a year.”

Robin sighed. “Well, at least I was able to contribute something to the life of the poor.” He smiled. “I also gave John many purses of coins and gold. We will give everything to the peasants.”

“By the way, where did you find so much gold?” Djaq asked, amazed.

He smiled enigmatically. “I hid a chest of gold before my departure to the Holy Land, years ago.” He laughed. “I had buried gold as treasure just for the sake of preservation. Yesterday, in late night, I showed this place to Archer and Guy, and they dug the chest out of the ground.”

She laughed at him. “Well, you seem to have felt that you wouldn’t be able to keep your wealth.”

“And I am also not keeping it now: John is giving everything to the people.”

“I expected nothing else from you, Robin.”

Robin sighed. “Well, I owe John and Allan a huge debt of gratitude.” He felt guilty that he had deserted the people for so long, defending the king from the Saracens and the Black Knights in Acre. He also felt guilty that John and Allan had helped the poor in his name while he had been away. Robin was again at crossroads: there was the conflict of loyalties in his head – his loyalty to King Richard and to the people. He again chose his king, for he couldn’t break the tie from the king, but he also wanted to help the people.

Djaq knew what her friend was thinking about. “Robin, don’t think about the conflict of loyalties now.”

He smirked. “I should have known that you would understand.”

She chuckled. “Unlike many others, I am able to read your thoughts.”

“I have no doubt, Djaq.”

Djaq stopped near Robin; she put a hand on his shoulder. “You cannot split yourself in two Robin Hoods, one of whom will save King Richard and the other will feed the poor.”

He was so hurt that he said, in a tone of vexation, “I should do something.”

“Robin, you should calm down,” Djaq said calmly as if she were lecturing her own child. “Now you must save the king because he must come back to England for the sake of everyone and… for your own sake, too. Then you will think of everything else. In this order!”

“You are right.” He pulled his leather jerkin over his shirt and put on his boots. “I am going to stroll in the woods while I have time. I will come back by breakfast time.”

“Robin, don’t wear yourself out before your long trip to London,” Djaq counseled him.

As Robin finished dressing, he swept his eyes over the camp, lingering his gaze at Allan’s pale features; his heart was overwhelmed with guilt for not stopping his father from shooting his brave friend. Will was sleeping peacefully on the bunk that stretched in the distant part of the sleeping quarters. Robin realized that the carpenter had been watching over Allan during the whole night, and sleep had probably claimed him only at sunrise.

He knew that Tuck and Little John slept in the kitchen area of the camp, for there was not enough space for everyone inside the sleeping quarters. Then his gaze fell at Lady Megan Bennet who still lay unconscious on the bunk on the opposite side of the sleeping area. Robin smiled at the sight of the young girl as she lay cradled in Guy’s arms, and he was surprised with Guy’s affectionate attitude to Megan.

Kate and Rebecca awoke more early than Robin. They hurried to leave the sleeping quarters as soon as they awoke. Kate didn’t dare even look at Gisborne, although she craved to spend time with Allan. Kate had long fallen for Allan a while ago, but looking at him wounded and possibly dying, she wanted to scream that she loved him very much, for she was completely entangled in a web of Allan’s charms.

Near the camp, Robin noticed Kate and Rebecca who appeared from behind the trees. The two women froze at the sight of their lord. They were not sure how to treat him and what he would say to them, whereas Tuck stood behind them with a strange smile on his lips. They also plastered smiles on their faces.

Robin moved towards the two women, smiling at them. He stopped two paces from them, glancing away for a moment before meeting Kate’s scared gaze. A frown creased the area between his brows as he fought to overcome his displeasure with Kate’s betrayal. He hated treason and betrayal in all forms.

“Good morning,” Robin said melodically. He made a mocking bow, grinning brassily.

“Good morning, Lord Huntingdon,” Rebecca said with a fake smile. She still disliked Robin and knew that her feelings would never change, but she had to pretend in his presence.

“Lord Robin, it is so good to see you,” Kate said sincerely.

“Is it truly good to see me?” Robin taunted them, looking absolutely innocent.

“Lord Robin, we are happy that you are alive,” Rebecca uttered.

“Where have you been?” Robin asked strictly, as if interrogating them.

“Lord Huntingdon, we had a short stroll in the forest. We also went to Locksley,” Tuck reported.

Robin regarded them, smirking. “You should have informed me before leaving the camp.”

Rebecca stared at Robin. “Master Robin, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You seem to cause trouble on your own, ladies,” Robin stated, his expression haughty. “That’s why I prefer to keep an eye on both of you after our recent escapades in Nottingham.”

Rebecca scowled; she wished to punch Robin in his smug face. “Lord Robin, you have no right to talk to us in this way. You were an outlaw for so long, and you can easily become an outlaw again.”

Robin broke into a scornful smile. “Have you heard an announcement that I was outlawed again?”

“No,” Kate whispered, casting her eyes down.

“It might happen after you rescued Gisborne, this goddamned criminal,” Rebecca hissed.

“Sir Robin also saved your lives,” Tuck intervened.

Giving Tuck a grateful smile, Robin veered his gaze to Rebecca. “If you have forgotten, I am married to a cousin of both King Richard and Prince John. It is unlikely that I will be outlawed again.” His eyes glistened with danger. “I don’t care what you think of me, but there are some things that you must remember.”

“We are at your disposal, Lord Robin,” Kate said in most courteous tones.

Robin smiled, but his gaze remained steely. “I am the lord of the lands where you live, and it is your duty to obey me and respect me, my wife Melisende, and my son, Richard.”

Rebecca hated Robin at the moment. “Lord Robin, I assure you–”

Robin cut her off sharply. “I haven’t finished yet,” he said in a voice edged with controlled anger. “You have to respect your lord and your lady. I want you to remember this very well.” He narrowed his eyes to slits. “If you dare say something bad about my wife, my son, or myself in the manner you allowed yourself to discuss me throughout many years, I will drive you out of my lands.”

“Lord Robin, you said that you are indifferent to my opinion,” Rebecca pointed out.

 “I would keep silent if I were you,” Tuck recommended.

Kate made a move to speak, but Robin raised his hand. “Hush and listen.” He brushed his thumb over his own lips. “I don’t care what you think of me, but my wife Melisende – the king’s cousin – won’t be feeling the same way. My wife will have you punished and thrown out of our lands when she hears your words. Don't risk our wrath because you will pay.”

“I am so sorry for my mother’s actions,” Kate said, gazing at Rebecca who stiffened at her daughter’s condemning gaze. “You have my word that we will respect you and your family.”

Robin nodded. “I hope so. I am giving you only one warning.”

“Of course, Lord Robin,” Kate said humbly.

Rebecca lowered her head, biting her lips. “We understand you, Lord Robin.”

Robin looked at Kate, narrowing his eyes. “Kate, there is something we need to discuss.”

“Yes, my lord.” Kate dropped her head to her chest, sighed, but made no attempt to acknowledge or deny anything. “I will do what you wish.”

“Good.” To prevent any questions, Robin told the eldest of the two potters, “Rebecca, you and your daughter will stay here with my friends in the woods until my return from London.”

Rebecca knitted her brows. “Lord Robin, we can go–”

Robin interrupted Rebecca. “I said that you would stay here, in Sherwood, until I return from London.” He glanced at Kate. “And I am sure Kate will find what to do. She can help Djaq take care of Allan.”

Kate felt her cheeks flushing; she wondered why Robin said that. “Yes, I will help take care of the wounded man and lady. I will do this with a great pleasure.”

“Kate, you should ask me at first,” Rebecca scolded.

Robin rolled his eyes; he disliked Rebecca with every fibre of his being. “Taking care of the wounded is a noble thing, Rebecca. She doesn’t need your permission to do good things.”

“Of course, Lord Huntingdon,” Rebecca sizzled.

“Thank you, Lord Robin,” Kate said gleefully.

Robin’s gaze shifted to Kate. “Come with me, Kate.”

Kate nodded, looking pale and frightened. Rebecca tugged at the sleeve of Kate’s dress, but the young blonde drew back from her mother and followed Robin into the woods. She guessed that they would talk about Gisborne; fear gripped her like a vice, and her breaths came in heavy bursts as her face contorted slightly from the strain. As she stalked step by step after Robin, she felt as if he were a stunning, sleek predator, at once enticing and killing her slowly.

As they reached the clearing, Robin stopped, then stared at Kate. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“How can I help you, Lord Robin?” Kate’s voice was trembling.

Robin glared at the blonde girl. “Why did you betray Gisborne?”

Kate was shuddering in fear. “He killed my brother! He killed Matthew!”

“I already know that, Kate.”

“Then, my lord, you understand why I helped Prince John capture Gisborne.”

Robin shrugged. “There was no benefit from betraying Guy to Prince John.”

“Gisborne killed Matthew! He is a murderer! He is irredeemable!" Kate bellowed in rage.

"You cannot decide who can atone and who cannot,” Robin objurgated.

“I had the right to avenge my brother’s death!” Kate cried out defensively as she balled her fists. “I loathe Gisborne! I hate him! He deserves to die and burn in hell!”

Robin looked into her eyes. “ _Guy is one of us. He is not my enemy_ ,” he announced in a steady voice. “And I don’t think that he deserves to die. I can see that he has changed.”

"Gisborne killed Matthew!” Kate screamed in a shrilling voice that was thick with tears. “I will never forget the day when he stabbed my brother! I will hate him forever!”

He rubbed his cheek. “Kate, revenge won’t make you happy. It will give you only bitterness.”

“I cannot even look at Gisborne! He is alive and my brother is dead!”

He simply shook his head, not knowing what to say. And then his face lit up with a smile as he invented a new half-a-plan. “Kate, I know that you like Allan. But Allan is Guy’s friend, and he tried to save Guy on the day of the execution. Have you thought of how Allan will react if he learned who betrayed Guy?”

Kate’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my God! How did you learn this?”

Robin chuckled. “My observational skills are quite good.”

“Please don’t tell Allan the truth, Lord Robin!” a panic-stricken Kate pleaded.

He laughed. “Well, it seems that Allan likes you, too.”

Heat rose up to her cheeks, turning them a pretty pink. “No, this is not possible.”

“It is true, Kate. And this is the reason why you should sort out everything with Guy.”

“Ah!” Kate exclaimed, delighted that Allan liked her; then her face changed into shock. “But I cannot talk Gisborne! I cannot!” She broke into sobs, her knees shaking.

“Kate, hush and listen to me attentively,” Robin droned, inexpressible annoyance in his voice. “There are no innocent betrayals and lies, and once I told Allan the same… when he betrayed the gang.” His expression softened, but he made no attempt to comfort her. “I have told nobody about your betrayal so far, but you have to talk to Guy and make peace with him. Then you should talk to Allan.”

“I will never forgive Gisborne,” Kate annunciated.

Robin released an annoyed sigh. “Whatever you can forgive Gisborne or not, you must sort out everything with both Guy and Allan. I gave you an advice, and it is up to you whether to follow it or not.”

Robin turned around and stalked off into the woods. He wasn’t pleased with his conversation with Kate, thinking that he himself was a hypocrite who was dreaming of taking revenge on Vaisey. He just didn’t want Kate to hate anyone fiercely at her young age. He never liked Rebecca who often took donations from the gang and never thanked them for their help. He was indifferent to Kate, and he would have never noticed her among the villagers of Locksley if Allan hadn’t looked at her with heated interest. At the outlaws’ camp, Robin realized that Kate fancied Allan, and that was the only reason why he didn’t expose her as a traitor.

Looking around, Robin felt his heart blossoming. He was walking along familiar paths, breathing in the fresh morning air. The weather was unusually cold for this time of the year, but today it seemed that the little snow left on the ground was thawing, the young grass thrust up its tiny blades, and it also was much warmer. Twittering incessantly, birds swarmed upon the slightly snow-covered bushes that gleamed with dew and cast long shadows on the ground. Nature welcomed Robin back home alive!

Robin smiled serenely, his eyes taking in the beauty of the forest. “I am at home.”

“It is good to be at home?” Carter’s voice coursed through the air.

Robin turned to his friend. Carter stood in a nearby clearing, grinning widely at Robin; in his hands, he held one rabbit and two squirrels which he had caught for breakfast.

“It is really good, my friend,” Robin answered with a smile.

“I am glad that you feel better and calmer.” Carter was very worried about Robin, understanding how emotionally fragile and confused Robin was in the aftermath of his last near-death experience.

“And you are still trying to be… gentle with me?”

“I am trying to help you, Robin.”

Robin’s eyes took in a tall oak illuminated by rays of the sun winking through the trees. Reckless anger flooded him, and he lashed out at Carter. “I don’t need anyone’s help. If I need something, I will ask.”

Carter stepped closer to Robin. “I am not going to annoy you, Robin,” he replied flatly, not affected by the other man’s outburst. “I thought that you might need my support, but I was mistaken. I shall know better another time.” He played Robin’s game, not wishing to make Robin feel more insecure.

Robin’s countenance changed into the guilty one. “I am sorry… I don’t know what came over me.”

Carter smiled gently. “It is alright. No worries.”

“Did you go on hunting?”

“Yes,” Carter confirmed, pointing at a rabbit and squirrels. “I have caught just something for breakfast.”

“Then we should return to the camp.”

“Yes, we should.”

“Let’s go,” Robin said.

Suddenly, Robin paused, his hand automatically moving to his stomach. Carter rushed to his friend; he knew that Robin didn’t complain about his suffering unless he was unable to hide his discomfort or pain.

Carter wrapped his free arm around Robin’s back. “Robin, are you in pain?”

Robin dragged a deep breath, relieved that the pain was gradually subsiding. “It is much better now,” he said sincerely. “It is not a raw wound I have only just received, so my life is not in danger. But it is the damp and cold weather that causes this discomfort. The cold air in the north of England is not for me.”

“As soon as we return to Aquitaine, you will feel much better.”

Robin smiled with a weary smile. “I am already feeling better. And I am at home, in Sherwood!”

Carter smiled. “And you are alive. Nothing else matters, my friend.”

Robin’s smile brightened, his heart fluttering with joy. “Thank you, Carter.”

Carter looked around, smiling at the sight of the birds on a nearby tree. “The forest is reviving! All nature looks gay, welcoming you in Sherwood and England!”

“That's not a bad idea to welcome me with a little warmer weather,” Robin retorted with a sheepish grin. “I have been away for so long that I deserve a proper greeting.”

Carter grinned back. “You certainly do deserve it. Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

“We are quite far from the camp. You will have to walk a mile,” Carter noticed as they started walking.

"I will be alright, Carter,” Robin answered as they came close to a clump of large trees that separated them from the Great North Road.

Suddenly, Carter and Robin stopped as they saw two unknown men on a neighboring clearing. Those men were Isabella’s guards; Carter and Robin hid amongst the bushes and listened.

§§§

Guy sat on the edge of Megan’s bed, looking at the unconscious lady with eyes full of sympathy, concern, and affection. For a moment, he wondered how Megan’s lovely eyes would look like consumed by the fires of love, but then he banished these thoughts from his head. Yet, the voice in the back of his head whispered to him some melodic words about Megan’s beauty, intelligence, kindness, compassion, honesty and bravery, which impressed him so much. Why was he thinking of Megan? Why was happening to him?

He was prone to tread mental labyrinths, speculating about his misery and pain, and his thoughts of Megan must have had the same route – it was just a new mental journey for him. Even though he had met her not a long ago, Megan meant a lot to Guy. Marian was Guy’s guidance to light from darkness, and he was in debt to her forever, but Megan was inducing him to bring out more of his goodness in his life. Somehow, it seemed that Megan was the embodiment of his future hopes while Marian was the center of his reminiscence about the past. His feelings were tangled like brambles, and he couldn't unravel them.

He spent half of the night watching Megan asleep, thinking that if she regained her consciousness during the night, he would be by her side. Guy was very tired, drained of all physical strength after the yesterday’s fight in Nottingham and emotionally devastated in the aftermath of the unexpected meeting with Malcolm of Locksley. He was awake until dawn, and then he dozed and woke at intervals. He opened his eyes at the sound of Djaq’s voice as the young Saracen intended to change bandages on Megan’s wound.

After Djaq had finished, Guy continued watching Megan. His head was so tired that he thought he might fall asleep anytime, but he forced himself to stay awake. He was so worried about Megan that he again bombarded Djaq with questions about her wound and her chances for survival. Smiling at Guy, Djaq repeated that Megan’s wound was dangerous, but the girl had high chances to survive. To his own surprise, Guy found himself silently praying for Megan’s health and speed recovery. He didn’t care that his own back ached him every time he moved – he cared only for her.

Suddenly, Guy felt Megan stir. He took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Meg? Meg?” he breathed.

Megan’s deep blue eyes flung open, and a wonder-stricken expression settled over her face. “Guy,” she whispered with a small smile. “Is it you?”

He bent over her, and, with a delighted smile on his face, gazed into his face. His steel blue eyes were clear, his expression relieved. “Thanks be to God!” he exclaimed. “You are not in pain?”

"Just a little," she said very quietly.

“Djaq said that the wound would be hurting for some time,” Guy hurried to say. “But if the pain is too sharp, tell me and I will ask her to give you some painkilling herbs.”

Confusion married her face. “Where are we now? What happened? And who is Djaq?”

Guy smiled, his heart pounding harder in joy. “We are in the outlaws’ camp in Sherwood. Djaq is Robin Hood’s friend and physician who saved Robin’s life in the Holy Land.”

“Sir Robin’s camp?” She arched a brow, her expression still absent-minded. “But what happened to me?”

Her question was couched in an almost nonchalant tone, Guy noticed, and he was amazed at Megan’s inner strength. He knew that she was unwell, and he could see shadows hiding in her eyes. “The Baron of Rotherham injured you. But you will be alright – you will recover.”

“And are you alright, Guy? How is your back?” Her voice was weak.

An odd twisting began in Guy’s heart: Megan cared for him more than for her own heath, and it deeply touched his heart. “Djaq cleaned… the healing welts. I am really feeling well.”

“I am glad.”

“Thank you for saving my life,” Guy said, his eyes full of gratitude.

Megan smiled joyfully. “There is no need to thank me.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted you to live, Guy.”

“I could have parried Rotherham’s blow, but you jumped between him and me.”

She dragged a deep breath, shutting her eyes. “I told you in the dungeons that I like you.”

“So it wasn’t just something you told me when we expected to die?” He wanted her to confirm her own words, and so many unexplainable emotions filled his heart that they nearly suffocated him.

She opened her eyes, staring into his eyes. “I thought that you had understood that I hate lying.”

“I know this.”

“I feel something for you, but we are no longer dying,” Megan replied in a distant and controlled voice. Yet, she looked as if she might say something very personal and serious, like she had told him during the moments before their supposed execution; but then she schooled her features into a mask of neutrality.

“Yes, we didn’t die.” His voice was hollow, and an odd feeling of regret stirred in his heart.

“What happened to Rotherham?”

“I killed him,” Guy responded in a quiet voice; he wasn’t sure that she would approve of him killing another man. “He attacked me, and I had to defend myself.”

“I don’t approve of killing, but you had to do that.”

Guy let out a sigh of relief. “You are not disappointed in me, are you?”

“No. Of course, not. There was a battle in the courtyard, and you had no choice but to kill if they wanted to take your life.” Suddenly, she stiffened, her eyes widened as her mind flew to the moments of her father’s demise. “Oh my goodness! My father… He is dead… He died for me…” Her voice faltered as she uttered the last words, and tears stung her eyes.

 “I am sorry, Meg, but your father is dead,” Guy voiced the grim truth.

She swallowed heavily. “Isabella’s guards killed him.”

“Yes, they shot him, but he was still alive for some time after you had been stabbed.”

“Oh!” Megan’s voice sounded far-away. “I don’t understand…”

“Listen, Meg, it is a long story,” Guy began, sighing deeply at the thought that he would have to distress her more. “When you were injured, Djaq and Will took you away from Nottingham to the forest. Djaq tended to your wound and stayed here with you, while we fought with Isabella’s guards in the town. After the fight was over, Robin and I discovered that your father was still alive.”

She blinked her eyes shining with tears. “But how could my father be alive?” Her eyes revealed endless sadness. “I was shaking him, trying to wake him up, but he didn’t react.”

“I think that he passed out from the blood loss. When you were near him, he was merely unconscious.”

Megan felt her heart hammering harder, and for a moment, hope swelled in her that her father was alive. But she saw the apologetic and grim look in his eyes, and she had no doubt that it was real – her father died after she had been stabbed by Rotherham. Tears misted her eyes as she looked up into Guy’s face. “My father died.” She swallowed her sobs, tears coursing down her cheeks. She seemed almost frantic as she grabbed Guy's hand. “I am wounded, but I am not delirious. Tell me everything. Everything!”

Guy smiled gloomily. “Megan, I know that you are very strong, but you were wounded, and you need time to rest. You need strength. We will talk when you feel better.”

She blinked away tears. “No, Guy, tell me everything about my father’s last minutes.”

Guy took her hands in his, giving her a sorrowful look. “Sir Hugh was a good man, and he loved you very much. He asked me to give you a message that he loved you.”

Megan smiled sadly. "I loved him so much, and I feel guilty that I didn’t save him.”

He squeezed her hand in a gesture of comfort. “There is no way you could have saved him, Meg.”

“What else… did my father… tell you?” Her voice was trembling.

Guy glanced away, his heart beating frantically in his chest. Then he swung his gaze to her and stared at her for a long, long moment, his lips twitching ever so lightly. Taking her hand and raising it to his lips, he pressed a light kiss on her knuckles. “Your father asked me to take care of you.”

Tears glistened in her eyes as she watched Guy. She had never thought that her father could have said asked Guy of all men to take care of her, even though she remembered that Hugh hadn’t considered Guy a black-hearted villain and a dark demon of Nottingham, like everyone else. For a moment, her heart filled with so much blissful gladness and unutterable joy that she thought it might burst out of her chest. A kind of brown twilight hung over her as she remembered Marian of Knighton, the lady love of both Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne. A fresh wave of bitterness flooded her soul, and Megan sighed.

Megan gazed away, her bottom lip trembling. “My father had always been sympathetic with you, Guy. When it was rumored that you had killed Vaisey, he told me that it was the best proof of your goodness.” Her fingers were nervously playing with a bit of embroidery on the sleeve of her tunic. “But you don’t need to keep your promise. I can take care of myself.”

“I thought that we are friends, and friends are supposed to care for one another.”

“Yes, we are friends.”

After her initial shock had evaporated, Megan’s mind cleared, and she looked at Guy attentively. She noticed the differences between his appearance in the prison and his current looks. With shorter and neat hair and several dark strands falling over his forehead, with shaved chin, he looked extremely handsome and darkly charming and so utterly male that he took her breath away. In Nottingham, before her imprisonment and after the Queen Mother’s arrest, she had heard that Guy was well known for his remarkable handsomeness. Now, when he looked like the gorgeous man of old times, Megan knew that there was no exaggeration in the gossip about Guy’s attractiveness and the power of his dark charm.

“How do I look like?” Guy questioned, understanding that she had noticed the difference.

She smiled, soaking in the sight of him. “You look like a drop-dead dangerous man who, I am sure, has broken many female hearts,” she said, grinning elegantly, never breaking her gaze with his. “I don’t even know whom I like more – a gorgeous man whom I see now or a vulnerable man whom I saw in the prison.”

Guy scowled. “I am no longer the sheriff’s man. I am no longer the henchman of this devil.” His voice showed slight irritation with her words. “I am just Guy. I am only Guy.”

“How thrilling to hear that,” she said with a large smile, her eyes full of pride for Guy. “I agree that you are only Guy – not Guy of Gisborne or Guy of something. Now you are your own man.”

Hope flashed in his eyes. “Do you really think that I have become my own man?”

Megan liked that his voice didn’t possess the devilish confidence of an arrogant cynic, which meant that he had truly changed and now was brooding over his life and his past mistakes. “Guy, you broke from Vaisey. You are a changed man now. You have stepped on the road to redemption.” She raised her hand and patted his shoulder fondly. “You have drunk out of the bitter cup which God gave you – you suffered, and these sufferings cleansed your heart. You became someone more than just your own man and a better man. And there are so many things in this life which you can do to make the world a better place!”

He smiled almost shyly. “ _I want to become a better man. I want to help others_ , especially someone who might be dragged behind the bars and suffers what you and I experienced in the underground dungeons.”

Megan smiled at him fondly. She was impressed how much Guy’s imprisonment had altered him. “And I believe that you will be able to do that. You are a strong man, and you will cope.”

“Thank you for your faith in me, Meg.”

“You are welcome.”

Guy turned his gaze at Robin’s empty bunk, wondering where the younger man had gone. “While we were imprisoned, I realized how many wrong choices I made in my life.” A rusty laugh erupted from him, but it was a dark laugh. “Once I was on the other side of the bars, and now I want to do everything to help innocents escape the fate that would have befallen you and me if Robin hadn’t rescued us.”

Megan chuckled. “Do I understand correctly that you are in league with Robin Hood?”

He laughed aloud this time. “We are not friends – we are allies.”

“Excellent,” she said with a satisfied smile. “The only thing that I want to bring to your attention is your manner of dressing yourself.”

“What?” He was bewildered.

She grinned. “Your fervor in denying that black color suits you is entertaining for one week, but not for longer, Guy, or you risk becoming quite a bore.” She paused, winking at him, and he smiled at her. “My dangerous and dark, Guy, I have told you many times before that black  and white are two colors most suitable for you, and they should comprise your wardrobe. You belong in black and white – nothing else.”

“Oh, Megan, you are impossible!”

Meg repressed a laugh, fearing that if she laughed, it would cause her pain. “I am not an idiot, Guy. I know that I entertain you.” She smiled. “But I am being sincere – black suits you.”

“I will remember that.”

“You should,” she insisted. “Besides, I look a bit different as well.”

Drawing slightly back from her but still sitting on the edge of her bunk, Guy cast a scrupulous gaze at her, regretting that he couldn’t see her slender curves under the blanket. Even despite her pallor, Megan still looked beautiful with her deep blue eyes shining at him like diamonds and with her dark brown, long, glossy hair flowing down over her shoulders as it shimmered in the sunlight. And Guy couldn't believe that he was suffering mentally – unselfishly and truly – so much just because of her wound! But if somebody had told him three months ago that he would meet such a unique lady in the underground hell of all places in the world and that he would be so attached to his angel of salvation, he would have never believed them.

“You are beautiful, Megan,” Guy said huskily. His voice was calm, but inside him his emotions were rioting. “You are very beautiful.” A strange tremor passed through him at his own words.

There was an impish smile on her face. “I will look better when I get out of this bed!” She tried to mock, but his words had a profound effect on her, for a moment she thought she stopped breathing.

“How are you feeling, young lady?” Djaq spoke as she appeared near the bunk.

“I am… fine.” Megan stared at the young Saracen physician with distrust in her eyes. “Are you Djaq?”

“Yes,” Djaq replied. “It is a good sign that you awoke, Lady Megan. It means that your body is fighting, and I think that there is a chance that you won’t contract a fever.”

Megan smiled gratefully. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You are welcome,” Djaq replied with a smile. “Your wound is serious, but it is not as dangerous as it could have been. I am sure that in a couple of weeks you will be back on your feet.”

Guy looked at Djaq. “Thank you, Djaq.”

In the next half an hour, Djaq was tending to Megan’s wound. She cleaned it again and then bandaged it; she also gave Megan a calming draught. Then Djaq tended to the welts on Guy’s back.

Megan smiled, her eyes riveted on Guy’s handsome face. “Guy, you look good. But you lack something.” Her eyes glowed with imps of mischief. “I think that a smudge of dirt upon your cheek might complete the look.” She giggled, but then her teeth bared in a grimace as a pain shot through her side.

“Meg, are you alright? How are you feeling?” Guy looked anxious.

Megan cast a sidelong glance at her side, then up at Guy. “All I desire for tomorrow is not to be buried alive.” She smiled, her expression pained. “I will survive because I am too young to die!”

Guy smiled at her attempt to cheer herself up; she was so strong, very strong. “Meg, you are not going to die. But you have to spend some time in bed. We will take care of you.”

She grinned playfully, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t you know that excessive attention to health is life's greatest hindrance? Wounds don’t wear you out as much as everyday life does.”

A joyful blaze erupted in his eyes. “Oh, Meg, nobody will ever be bored with you.”

“Nobody,” she repeated with a smile.

“Have you become so witty at Queen Eleanor’s court in Aquitaine?” Guy took her hand, and a touch of his skin against hers sent pleasurable warmth spilling through him. “If it is the case, then one day we should go there.” He smirked. “Maybe if I spend some time there, I will begin to love Robin’s sharp wit more.”

She shook her head disapprovingly. “Being humorous – dryly humorous – and mischievous is not in your character, Guy. It is Robin of Locksley’s nature and his way of living this life.” Her expression was serious as she glanced into his eyes. “You, Guy, don’t possess a mischievous nature, and you don’t need it, for mischief-makers often commit acts of mischief, keeping other sides of them hidden, and wear masks on their faces.”

Guy raised a brow, amazed and impressed with her maturity. “And I don’t need to wear a mask?”

“Guy, I mean that wearing masks may send a wrong signal about you to other people. It may destroy your life,” she explained, her eyes clever and astute. “Take yourself and Lord Huntingdon as an example.” She lowered her voice, looking around. “You told me a lot about your enmity to Sir Robin.”

“There is no enmity now,” he amended.

She nodded. “I know. But there is no friendship, I guess. Am I right?”

He swallowed hard. “There will never be any friendship between the two of us.”

“Of course, not,” she agreed, thinking that it was good that the two childhood enemies at least stopped hating each other. “But what was the reason for the wreckage between you and Sir Robin?”

Guy stiffened, his mind drifting back to the secret which Robin and he had shared. There was no way he would ever tell Megan about it, although he wondered whether she knew something about the Queen Mother’s golden boy, for she was Queen Eleanor’s favorite lady-in-waiting and her confident. And Lord Hugh Bennet was one of the few Richard’s knights who had rescued Robin from Longhorn! Whether Megan knew something or not, she was indirectly related to Robin and Guy’s secret.

He managed a smile. “And what was the reason?”

“I think it is clear, Guy. You and Sir Robin both wear masks,” she mused. She spoke in a low voice, fearing that Djaq or Will could overhear them. “Sir Robin wears a mask of a cheeky rogue and wants to show everyone that he is invincible and lives flying through his life like a light breeze. And many people misunderstand him quite frequently.” She pointed a figure at Guy. “And you used to wear a mask for a long time, and your mask of coldness covered the goodness in your heart.”

Guy sighed. “I did that when I served Vaisey.”

“But you no longer need it, Guy.”

He smiled happily. “No, I don’t.”

Megan and Guy exchanged more pleasantries, talking about everything and nothing. They both enjoyed their conversation, captivating, amicable, and light, and they could have easily said that they had become friends. There was something between them that pushed them to trust each other. The troubles and near-death experiences had made them close; their emotions, which they had experienced while standing on the scaffold, were cut from the same cloth. There was an invisible thread of understanding between them.

To Megan, her relationship with Guy was unusual. She was independent by nature and had rejected a huge legion of suitors, but she admitted that nobody had ever interested her before she met Guy. She was a maid, but she was not entirely without experience. She had many suitors, and she liked spending time with them, although she never crossed a line and she didn’t even let them kiss her. Her life in Poitou helped Megan meet a number of attractive noblemen, but none of them became more than good companions and even close friends. But everything changed when she met Guy.

Megan wanted to be Guy’s friend, although she didn’t mind having a closer relationship with him. But she didn’t think that there could be anything between them, for there was Lady Marian of Knighton, the reluctant bride taken hostage and kept in the Tower of London. And yet, Megan was drawn to Guy, like a moth to a flame, and it was almost physically painful even to think that they would remain only friends. He meant more than a friend to her, although she wasn’t going to inform him about the depth of her true affection for him, like she had done during the moments when they had expected death.

“Meg, there is something I need to tell you,” Guy said after a short pause.

“What is it?”

“Robin is traveling to London today to stop Prince John’s coronation.”

Hot anger stirred in her heart, and Megan said passionately, “I have always despised John Plantagenet.  He tried so hard to assassinate King Richard, and when all of the regicide attempts were foiled, he did everything to prevent his elder brother from returning by paying to his international allies for the king’s imprisonment.” Her mouth twisted in disgust. “I despise this man with all my heart!”

Guy smiled at her, for he was fascinated by her passionate spirit. “Prince John indeed crossed a line.”

“My father was very loyal to King Richard.”

“I know. He had asked Robin to save the king before he died.”

“Thanks be to God that the Earl of Huntingdon is alive,” Megan said, her voice sounding strained. “He is the only man who can save the king and bring him back home.”

“I cannot disagree.”

“Guy, you know that I am very loyal to King Richard and Queen Eleanor. Go to London with Sir Robin and help him stop Prince John.”

“I was going to accompany Robin, but I didn’t want to leave you,” Guy said. He reached out for Megan’s hand to take it in his, but instead she wrapped her own hand around his wrist. “When I was in Acre, I pledged my loyalty to King Richard, and I am intending to keep my word.”

She smiled, relieved. “Thank you, Guy. You are an honorable man.”

Megan blinked, trying to get from the clutches of sleep, but it seemed impossible, for Djaq’s calming draught had already started working. She pressed her hands to her forehead, feeling dizzy, her vision became blurred. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep, and she felt as if she were falling into velvet darkness of the blackest void. Guy’s smiling face was the last clear vision she had before falling asleep, and then the darkness enveloped her, burning away her consciousness. With Guy close to her, she was at peace.

Then Guy told Djaq that he had his own deals and left the outlaws’ camp. He had a plan how to get more information about Isabella, and he was going to use his resources to help Robin.

§§§

Guy of Gisborne was in elated spirits as he strode along the dusty road, heading back to the outlaws’ camp from Dead Men’s Crossing; he had gone there after Megan had fallen asleep. He noticed neither weariness nor pain in his back, experiencing a sense of relief from the prolonged sufferings of a prisoner who had been condemned to death. Now Guy was free and he wouldn’t die tomorrow, and this feeling of freedom was so delicious that it seemed to take his breath away.

Guy was also breathless with emotion because he had just made a deal with two of his former loyal men – Sir Aubrey of Peterborough and Sir Roderick of Bardney. Now they were Isabella’s guards and obeyed her and Blamire’s commands, but they were loyal to him, to Guy. When he had been imprisoned, they had treated him with compassion and had been the only two men who hadn’t humiliated him. And they had also helped Guy in Nottingham to avoid capture after he had hustled away from the scaffold to find Megan. And now he made a deal with the same two men who promised him to spy on Isabella for him.

As he reached the camp, Guy spotted Robin standing in the midst of the trees, his head raised heavenward. He cleared as he approached Robin from the back. “Locksley, I need to talk to you.”

Robin spun around to face Guy, a wicked grin on his face. “Have you already learned the way to the camp, Gisborne? You seem to be a quick learner.”

Guy scowled; Robin’s constant mockery began to irritate him again. “I met two of my former men. They are still loyal to me, and they will help us.”

“And what can they do?”

“They pledged to ferret out information about Isabella’s actions and plans.”

Robin directed at Guy a skeptical gaze. “Well, tell me your plan. I am at your disposal.”

Guy told Robin about the meeting with Aubrey and Roderick on Dead Men’s Crossing and about his plan to use them as spies on Isabella. By the time Guy had finished the tale, he didn’t know whether the plan was approved or rejected, for Robin only smiled with a mysterious smile, shaking his head either in disbelief or refusal. Then the conversation fell upon Kate of Locksley’s role in the capture of Guy. 

“I haven’t told anyone about her treachery yet,” Robin said softly.

“And you will consider your silence my new debt to you,” Guy blurted out.

Robin grinned. “In truth, I kept silent certainly not to defend Kate.”

Curiosity seeped into Guy’s face. “And why did you do that?”

“Allan fancies Kate, and I have known this for a long time.”

Guy blinked in disbelief. “Allan likes Kate?”

“Gisborne,” Robin said, his lips lengthening in a wry grin, “it is good that I surprised you.”

“Yes, you did surprise me, Hood.”

 “Oh, did I?” Robin’s voice again sounded taunting, a glimmer of irony in his eyes. “Gisborne, you are inconsistent. You began to call me by my rightful title instead of using my nickname which my friends from the forest and the people gave me. It seems you have worn out yourself trying to be civil with me.”

Guy blanched, and his lips quivered with anger. “How did your soldiers from the private guard tolerate you, Locksley?” This time, he again used Robin’s title.

Robin enjoyed their skirmishes a lot. “My soldiers loved me, and my mischief entertained everyone in the desert. I thought you had gotten accustomed, Gisborne, while we were on opposites sides.”

“There is too much poison in your blood,” Guy replied with a smile. Truth be told, he kind of enjoyed their word-battles as well, for Robin was one of the most amusing people whom he met.

Robin grinned belligerently. “I am the most intolerable man in the world.”

Guy smirked. “We will need to reach some sort of agreement as to how I will tolerate you.”

“Oh, I believe we will find a way,” Robin summed up in a light tone. “As for Kate, you and she will have to talk eventually, although I don’t know how you are going to repay your debt to her.”

Guy felt a twinge of guilt stabbing his heart. “I cannot resurrect her brother.”

The sandy-haired man did a helpless gesture. “Look, Gisborne, if you want to change, you have to face your own crimes and mistakes. You cannot just omit them from your life.”

Guy stared at Robin straight in the eye. “I committed heinous crimes, and I want to redeem myself.”

Robin looked at the older man as if he saw a stranger confessing his sins to a priest. He looked stricken for a moment, before coldness returned to his eyes. Before his second departure to Acre, Guy’s eyed had resembled the core of an immense darkness, but now he could see the convincing feeling of remorse in Gisborne’s orbs. “I haven’t expected to hear these things from you, Gisborne. You seem to be re-assessing your life.”

 “Think what you want, Locksley.”

“I only warned you about Allan’s affection for Kate,” Robin underscored. “I have forgiven Allan for his betrayal, and now I consider myself in debt to him because my father shot him in the courtyard.”

Guy gave a nod of understanding. “I will do nothing to cause Allan pain. If necessary, I will conveniently eliminate from the tale of my capture the episode of Kate’s betrayal.”

“I did everything I could. Now it is your turn to talk to Kate, Gisborne.”

“I will,” Guy promised. As he stared at the back of Robin who was walking back to the camp, he again thought that his childhood nemesis was a fount of surprises, not all of them bad ones.

Robin didn’t find Archer and Robert in the camp, and he was worried about them. Not looking at Rebecca and giving Tuck a milk-and-water smile, Robin ambled to the sleeping quarters, where he found a familiar picture – Lady Megan Bennet sleeping on her bunk, Will and Djaq fussing over Allan, and John trying to help Djaq as much as he could.

“Where is Archer?” Robin questioned, his tone uneasy.

“Archer has gone to Nottingham,” Little John supplied. “He wished to find Robert.”

Robin sighed. “We are leaving soon.”

“Don’t worry, Robin. They are organizing everything for the trip,” Djaq becalmed him.

“Relax, Robin,” Will recommended.

Robin laughed. “Easier said than done.”

Guy emerged at the entrance, running his eyes across the group of people. Suddenly, Allan moaned as he tried to move his body; perhaps, he wasn’t feeling comfortable lying on his stomach for such a long time. Apparently, that movement caused him a great pain. Will raised Allan’s head, and Djaq brought an alabaster cup to Allan’s lips, throwing the liquid into Allan’s mouth; painkilling herbs had been added there.

“Poor Allan,” John said ruefully.

“Allan cannot die. Not now when Robin is alive and came back,” Will said, looking down at his friend.

Robin closed his eyes for an instant. “I pray he will pull through.”

“I have seen many men dying from less serious wounds," Djaq ventured to say, her voice slightly shaking. "We have to wait and pray for Allan.”

Robin nodded. "Djaq, you saved my life, and I know that you will save Allan, too.”

“I will do everything I can,” Djaq avouched.

In an hour, Robert and Archer returned from Nottingham. They brought no unsettling news, for Isabella made no announcement about Robin Hood and the yesterday’s fight in Nottingham. The environment in the town was cheerful, and the townspeople in the streets enthusiastically talked about Robin’s resurrection, for they were still in startled awe that the hero had come back from the dead and appeared in the courtyard at the time of the solar eclipse. Robin wasn’t outlawed, and nobody of his friends was declared an outlaw either. Isabella resolved to adhere to a cautious strategy, waiting for news from Prince John.

Leaving others in the camp, Robin, Guy, Archer, Carter, and Robert made their way to one of the outlaws’ hideouts near the Great North Road. They found five horses tied to the trees in the area; Robert and Archer had taken the horses for their journey from the Locksley stables. They mounted and rode towards Dead Men’s Crossing, where Robin planned to meet with Aubrey of Peterborough and Roderick of Bardney.

They hopped down from their saddles on the edge of the clearing. Carter and Robert stood near Robin, consciously avoiding Guy, whom they loathed in spite of Robin’s assurance that Guy had changed. Only Archer was friendly with Guy, trying to be an amicable companion for his half-brother.

“It is a delightful surprise that we can use someone as spies on Isabella,” Archer said, looking round at Guy with a large smile and winking at him.

“They will snoop more information out of Isabella,” Guy affirmed, giving a peculiar significance to the words. “She is a dangerous and devious woman, and we should expect everything from her.”

“Gisborne,” Robert said in a voice edged with distaste and loathing, “You are not very different from your sister. You can do everything out of greed, and you can betray the king again if it suits your purposes.”

“I agree. We cannot trust Gisborne,” Carter said emphatically.

Archer sighed. “We have been through it.”

Robin swept his eyes over his friends. “Believe me, lads, I have no love for Gisborne, and I don’t even like him, but I am willing to trust him,” he said neutrally. “I am willing to give him a chance.” 

“Robin, your heart is too noble,” Carter put in. “But the king’s life and the future of England are at stake. We cannot risk so much and give Gisborne our complete trust.”

“Robin, I will never forget that Gisborne served Vaisey, tried to kill you, and killed Roger of Stoke,” Robert said between clenched teeth. His gaze slid from Robin to Guy, and he shot the man in black leather a murderous look. “I will be able to forget what he did to our friends only if Gisborne commits suicide.” His voice was mordant and unkind. “But he is too weak to take his own life.”

Robin didn’t answer and glanced away. His heart twisted in pain at the thought of Roger of Stoke.

“Robert, you shouldn’t say that,” Archer reproached.

“Archer, Gisborne didn’t kill your friends,” Robert emphasized.

Carter looked at Guy in disgust. “I tolerate this man only because Robin asked me about that.”

Robin opened his eyes and raised his face heavenward. Birds flew around the clearing, and the sun shone brightly in the clear sky, but this beauty didn’t inspire him. He sensed nothing, too focused on his new mission. “I am willing to trust Gisborne and this is my final word,” he said coldly.

“I will try to be civil with Gisborne only for you, Robin,” Robert acquiesced.

“Only for you, Robin,” Carter echoed.

Guy gave Robin a grateful smile, though a tense one; Archer smiled with a luminous smile.

Suddenly, Robin’s lithe frame shook with a sort of fierce agitation, and his eyes glistened in the sunlight with an unnaturally cruel brightness. “Make no mistake, Gisborne. If you betray King Richard again, you will pay a high price – this time, I will kill you,” he nearly hissed, his eyes gleaming with danger.

Guy, deeply moved by Robin’s threat, stood helplessly silent. What could he say? He knew a great deal better than anybody else that his current truce with Robin was shaky and stemmed only from the dark mysteries of the past which they shared. He felt keenly the cruelty of fate which had plunged fine young spirits of Robin and himself into a sea of morbid hatred that had been destroying them for so long.

“Locksley, I will say it only once more because I am fed up with your mockery and distrust,” Guy stated in a steamed-up voice, his eyes darkening with anger. “I have no intention of betraying King Richard. And I have no love for you either. As you said, we are only allies.”

Robin chortled. “I have some startling news for you, Gisborne.”

“What?” Guy growled.

“In my opinion, you failed to kill Vaisey,” Robin delivered a blow.

Guy looked at Robin in utter shock, then laughed. “Is it another joke of yours, Locksley?”

“It is neither a joke nor a foul play,” Robert interjected, his eyes piercing Guy’s face. “ _We have serious reasons to think that Vaisey survived the stab wound and hid_ ; he might be still recovering.”

Guy shook his head. “It is impossible. I killed Vaisey and saw him draw his last breath.”

Berserk bloodlust swamped Robin, enfolded him, seeping into the enveloping scent of death, into his very soul. He was united in the bond of ferocious hatred with Vaisey who also hated him, and he coveted to kill the evil man in the most barbaric way. “I feel that Vaisey is alive,” he proclaimed in a voice that was like a voice of a phantom coming from portentous, opaque darkness. His hand went to the hilt of his sheathed scimitar; he took several calming breaths before he continued in a less dark voice. “Nobody knows where Vaisey’s grave is and who buried him. It seems his body simply vanished.”

Robert, Carter, and Archer cast flurried glances at Robin, but didn’t say anything.

Gisborne stared vacantly into the woodland. He pressed his hands to his temples, suddenly dizzy, his heart growing heavier with every stroke. He was not well rested, but taking a deep breath of fresh air in the forest filled him with more strength. The news that he had probably failed to finish off Vaisey, the very man whom he had blamed for his unhappiness and plight, was more than disconcerting and aggravating – it was disastrous. If he had failed to murder Vaisey, then he had failed to avenge his mother’s disgrace and the years of misery during his service to the sheriff. If it was so, then lives of many people were still in peril.

The blood drained from Guy’s face. “I stabbed him in the chest. I saw him die. He must be dead.”

Archer inclined his head. “We don’t doubt that you stabbed Vaisey. We doubt that he died.”

Robin revealed to Guy his thoughts of Vaisey’s conspiracy with Prince John to hide himself, and Guy listened attentively, his shoulders heavy with the burden of possible failure to kill his former master. In the middle of their conversation, they heard the snorting of horses and the swift gallop of hooves.

“These are my men,” Guy began, but for whatever reason, his declaration wasn’t met with cheers.

Carter smirked spitefully. “Are you sure, Gisborne?”

A deep frown marred Guy’s forehead. “What do you mean?”

“I have to disappoint you, Gisborne. These men are not loyal to you – they are Isabella’s men,” Robin enlightened. “Carter and I saw them meeting with Blamire on the edge of the forest today in the early morning hours. And we hid amongst the bushes and heard their little chat.”

“No, no!” Guy cried out, and his face betrayed his dissatisfaction and distress.

“Yes.” Carter’s lips curved in a viperous smile.

“They don’t want to be loyal to you, Gisborne,” Robert spilled more poison.

Archer lowered his head, displeased. “There are many traitors.”

“Too many,” Guy whispered. He allowed her gaze to linger for a brief moment on Robin, whose serious expression could mean only that the hero wasn’t trying to make a jest of Guy.

Sir Aubrey of Peterborough and Sir Roderick of Bardney appeared in sight and tightened the reins, then dismounted. Aubrey and Roderick saw Robin and Guy standing next to each other, smiling craftily. All this time, they played a role of being kind to Guy in the dungeons and then helping him in the courtyard to protect Megan from the Baron of Rotherham and the guards. And now they were so close to their targets – Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne, whom Isabella had taught them to lead into a trap.

Guy watched Robin grab his Saracen bow and Carter hand to him two arrows. He already knew what was going to happen – Robin would kill the traitors. Guy shuddered at the sight of Robin’s expression that was a clearheaded, unearthly detachment from the world, implying the awakening of dark instincts in the younger man’s heart. He let out a sigh when Robin stared at him with the eyes of pale blue color which were sharp, blank, and so extraordinarily bright.

Robin made up his mind to kill the traitors as soon as he had learned about their plan. Holding his bow in his hands, he crossed the clearing in several strides and stopped almost in the middle, staring at the two newcomers with a sly grin on his lips. He targeted Aubrey’s chest. “Treason is punishable by death.”

“Sir Robin, what… are you… doing?” Aubrey of Peterborough stuttered, his expression horrified.

Roderick of Bardney stared at Guy. “Sir Guy, we have come to help you as we agreed.” His eyes strayed to Robin. “What is Robin Hood doing? We are not your enemies.”

“It seems that you are traitors.” Guy felt an acid taste of a new betrayal in his mouth. He was betrayed by the men whom he had considered loyal to him. He no longer knew whom to believe. It seemed that he could believe only the king’s men, including Robin, the people who would probably never warm up to him. He was happy that he had Archer and Allan at his side, and he also missed Roger de Tosny.

Robin’s face hardened like water in a winter storm. “You are traitors to your king and England!”

“We have come here to help you.” Aubrey looked confused as he began to fiddle with the hilt of his sword.

“We have uncovered Lady Isabella’s vile scheme,” Robin continued in a more businesslike manner. “We know that you are not our allies. You wanted to lead us into a trap, but you are checkmated.”

“No, no!” Aubrey of Peterborough looked desperate. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Please don’t shoot! We might be useful for you!” Roderick of Bardney entreated.

Robin shook his head. “No,” he said, his eyes narrowing to slits and blazing with fire.

Robin nocked an arrow that struck Aubrey in the chest. He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, and then he pulled back a bow cord a couple of inches to his ear and fired another arrow. The arrow hit Roderick in the throat with deadly accuracy. Robin Hood’s aim always was lethal.

A moment later, they mounted their horses and continued their journey in a sinister silence. Robin didn’t even look back at the corpses of the two traitors whom he had just sent to hell. He didn’t care that he had taken their lives in cold blood, because if he hadn’t done that, they could have walked blindly into Isabella’s new trap. He was tired to spare traitors who continued to plot and kill!

Robin reached Guy and slowed his horse to a walk. “When you were at Vaisey’s side, I respected you only for one thing.”

“What?” Guy asked, extremely surprised.

“You can be loyal, even if your loyalty is misguided,” Robin replied. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

Robin urged his horse to its utmost speed across the slope, planning to ride next to Robert and Carter and leaving Guy with Archer, for he comprehended that his ex-foe would feel better with Archer than any of his friends. He didn’t see Guy staring after him, Guy’s lips quirking in a smile of appreciation and gratitude.

“Robin is not your friend, but he is a fair and compassionate man. And his friends have nothing to love you for,” Archer gave his verdict as he reached Guy.

“My relationship with Robin… is rather strained,” Guy commented, smiling bizarrely.

Archer offered him a smile. “Guy, you are not alone.”

“Thank you, Archer.” Guy replied. He smiled, this time with a sincere and large smile, touched by his half-brother’s kindness. Then his expression turned serious, his gaze sad. “I see Robin has changed after he died.”

“I recommend that you are very careful with Robin,” Archer warned. “Robin has many facets. He has changed after his death, and it is not clear so far how he will change in the future.”

Guy smiled constrainedly and nervously. “Thank you for your advice.”

§§§

The first half of their journey to London was completed without any event worthy of remark. They made their way through the countryside incognito and never entered a town or a village, except doing that at night; they stayed in humble inns on the roadside, where, if they were cautious, they were free from observation. They had no time to rest because Prince John’s coronation was approaching.

On the second day of the journey, a little before sunset, they had to change their horses in a small village near Northampton, planning to spend the whole night there. They entered the village bathing in the rays of the setting sun, and Robin directed his way to a small hostelry, to which travelers usually resorted. They rode to the yard, and, giving their horses in charge of the innkeeper, went inside the inn, where they found many men eating and drinking in the tavern on the ground floor.

Everyone entered, except for Robin, which puzzled Guy, who inquired, “Where is Locksley?”

“Robin is going to find Much,” Carter replied in an unfriendly tone. “He must be in this village.”

“How can Locksley be sure that Much is here?” Guy inquired.

Robert de Beaumont snarled, “It is not your deal, Gisborne.” Then he went to the innkeeper to ensure that they would be given good rooms for the night; Carter followed him.

“Damn them,” Guy cursed.

Archer put a hand on Guy’s shoulder. "Guy, we have journeyed together for some time, and they have been cold towards you. Accept it and take it for granted.”

"I have already accepted it." Guy lied because the disdainful attitude of Robin’s friends hurt him.

At the same time, Robin was walking along the dusty road, heading to Glasson Manor located in the center of the village. He walked fast and was close to several cottages, where he thought he would find Much and Eve. He stopped on the roadside to drink from a small rill of water, and then sat down near the road to rest for a short time. The journey was intensive and tiresome, and his throbbing scar again disturbed him a great deal. While resting, Robin fell into life contemplation and forgot of how much time passed away.

Robin smiled as he remembered Much and imagined their meeting. When Little John had said that Much had abandoned them and then had departed from Nottingham to find Eve, he had understood where his former manservant had gone. Before leaving for the Holy Land for the second time, Eve had come to Much, telling him that the sheriff’s men had thrown her out of Bonchurch Lodge and she had had nowhere to go. Although Robin had been in grieving the loss of Marian to Guy, he had helped Eve and instructed Much to take her to Lady Glasson, who had taken Annie, Guy’s former lover, in her household.

Robin rose to his feet, feeling a nagging pain in his stomach. It wasn’t past the sunset hour yet, and shifting clouds shut out the orange light of the sinking sun. He continued his way to his final destination, trying to control his emotions; but he couldn’t block out the fearful thoughts.

Having put on the hood on his head, Robin knocked at the front door of Glasstone Manor. The door opened, and the steward of the manor, an old man of at least sixty, exited.

“How can I help you?” the steward asked, surveying the hooded man with suspicion.

"I need to talk to Eve," Robin replied.

“Hmm,” the old man growled. “Eve went to her cottage. Her husband is again drinking.”

Robin was surprised. “Eve is married?”

“Aye,” the old man said somberly as he crossed himself. “Her husband, Much, is a poor man! He was one of Robin Hood’s men and was very loyal to his former master – Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon. He came here heartbroken, a shell of a man. After he married Eve and settled down here, he started drinking heavily; he seems to be affected by Robin Hood’s tragic death in the Holy Land.”

A long pause followed. Robin felt his body trembling, his heart pounding painfully as he imagined Much’s emotional state after his death. The pain Much was experiencing shivered through him, and he shuddered as a sudden gust of bitter wind swept through the yard and brought to mind the image of Much’s horrified face and his sorrow-filled eyes when Robin had said his farewell to Much.

"Where can I find Eve?” Robin managed to say at last.

The steward quickly explained how to find Eve’s cottage, and Robin thanked the man in hearty tones. Soon the hero again ambled through the village, observing many traces of extreme poverty. His cheeks burned with shame because he had deserted his people once again. He also hated Prince John’s tyranny and oppression that led the people to deep degradation and abject poverty.

Soon, Robin stood near the cottage situated on the outskirts of the small village, not close to Glasstone Manor. It was clear that the cottage was all of that desolate shabbiness which comes from shiftlessness joined with poverty. He noticed that the curtains on the windows were old and ragged, and he saw through one undraped window the paper peeling from the walls. Shame pervaded Robin: Much had lived in such terrible conditions with his wife while he, the Earl of Bonchurch, deserved a life of comfort and even luxury.

Robin didn’t go to the cottage straight away. He feared to face Much after such a long separation. Much loved Robin wholeheartedly, and he would be offended that he hadn’t been informed earlier about Robin’s survival. Much would be shocked, disappointed, hurt, angry, and, of course, extremely happy to see him alive and relatively healthy, Robin mused. At the thought of Much’s anger and disappointment, he felt hollow with fear and anticipation.

Inside the cottage, Much sat in a high-back chair at the only table in the chamber, holding a goblet of wine in his hand and staring into the red liquid. Today he was again drinking, trying to find salvation from his demons in the rivers of wine brought for him by Eve from Glasstone Manor. Much loathed himself for being so weak that he needed to dull his pain in wine, but he couldn’t help himself. Since Robin’s demise, Much wasn’t himself: he wasn’t a thoroughly good fellow, kind-hearted, loyal, tolerant, and generous – he transformed into a different man, still kind and loyal, but a weak, pessimistic, and broken man.

"Robin, rest to your honorable and brave soul,” Much whispered, as if his beloved friend could hear him. “I am so sorry that I failed to save you. I am so sorry that I cannot put your favorite flowers on your grave.” He made a large gulp of wine from his goblet. “I am sorry that I am alive and you are dead.”

Holding a candle in her hand, the young fair-haired woman entered the bedroom where her husband had spent days and nights wallowing in his grief and guilt.  Eve stood at the doorway, watching Much with sorrowful eyes. Her heart was aching for him, for it was difficult for her to watch him in a state of deep agony over the death of anyone, even a legendary hero like Robin Hood. He was dressed in his nightclothes, unshaven and drunk, his head bowed over the table, where a half-empty decanter of wine stood.

Several months ago, Much had appeared at her doorstep, looking like a ghost of the man whom Eve had liked at first glance in Bonchurch more than two years ago. Much had begged her to let him stay with her, and she had accepted him happily. He had told Eve a long story about his service in the Holy Land, and he had broken into heartrending sobs when he had recited the circumstances of Robin’s death. He had abandoned everyone in Nottingham and had come to find her to find shelter from loneliness and pain.

That evening, Eve had served a late dinner for Much and herself. Much had talked only about Robin, remembering their childhood and boyhood, recalling the years they had spent in Acre, and talking about the fight against Sheriff Vaisey in the woods. Eve had quickly comprehended that he was petrified with grief, and his heart was broken, so he sounded like a madman. By the end of the dinner, Much had confessed to loving her and had proposed to her. In between his sobs, Much had said that she was the only living creature in the world for whom he wanted to live and whom he needed after Robin’s untimely death.

Much and Eve had married in a chapel at Glasson Manor; Annie and another girl acted as witnesses. Eve became Much’s pillow for tears, and she did everything to help him overcome distress. She often gathered him into her arms when he vented his grief in a torrent of hot tears and lamentations. At first, she had anticipated that over time Much would get over Robin’s death, but his grief was unabated. Very soon Eve realized that Robin Hood’s death was the only pain which she would never be able to take away. There was a never-healing wound in Much’s heart, and it seemed that a part of Much had died together with Robin.

Since their wedding, Much started drinking heavily and stayed in bed most of the time. He didn’t want to do anything and lived in a darkness of unspeakable pain, in spite of being married to his beloved woman. It seemed that Robin’s death had sucked the life-blood from Much’s heart and soul, and now he didn’t want to live, waiting patiently for his death to be reunited with Robin. Much loved Eve, but he loved Robin more than anyone else, and there was nothing and nobody who could ever replace Robin’s place in his heart.

At night, Much was plagued by dreadful nightmares about the war’s horrors: he dreamt of bloody battles, brutal slaughter, and mutilated bodies scattered across the crimson sand. If he couldn’t fall sleep, Much went to the living room, where he drank himself into a stupor. Once, Eve had discovered Much sleeping on the floor with his hands folded over his chest, as if he were in a prayer. At that moment, Eve had realized how scarred Much’s heart was from the war and the latest unfortunate events in Acre.

Once Much had awoken from an awful nightmare, screaming in horror so loudly that an alarmed Annie, who lived in one of the nearby cottages, had come to Eve. After he had calmed down, Much had revealed to her the reason of his distress – a nightmare of Robin’s death. His sleeping brain had reproduced the scene of Robin’s death with sickening clarity, and Much had felt as if he were living the horror of those moments once again. Since then, the dream of Robin’s death plagued the former manservant every night. Much dreamt of Robin more than he had dreamt of the Holy Land, and he often called to Robin in his sleep.

“Robin,” Much muttered to himself, “forgive me for my failure to protect and save you. I failed you. I had to kill the sheriff before he murdered you, but I wasn’t in that damned courtyard." He stared into the emptiness, but everything whirled around him; he had drunk too much wine tonight. "I am so sorry, Robin."

Eve sighed as she heard Much calling his beloved former master. At such moments, she envied Robin Hood who had such a strong hold over Much despite being dead. Yet, she also hated even Robin for dying and taking a large part of Much’s heart, if not his entire heart, to Heaven. Sometimes, she caught herself on the thought that she hated Robin because he meant to Much more than she did, or at least she thought so.

Her heart constricted in her breast, and a pang of jealousy stabbed through her. She was jealous of her husband to Robin Hood, jealous to the dead man! How was it possible that Robin was always on Much’s mind? As she heard Much groaning Robin’s name again, she clenched and unclenched her small fists. She battled with the desire to shake her husband violently until the name of his former master perished from his mind.

She called him in a tender voice, but Much didn’t react. As she said his name again, Much lifted his eyes to her, and she cringed at the sight of his bloodshot eyes and his pallid face with hollow cheeks. Eve was shocked to the core, feeling helpless and angry, silently cursing Robin Hood. In the next moment, she heard Much saying her name in a voice full of warmth and tenderness, and her heart started beating faster.

“Much, it is me,” Eve purred, a shy smile hovering over her lips.

“Eve, my Eve,” Much whispered, looking at her with broken-hearted blue eyes. “What can I do for you? I doubt that I can do anything for anyone; at least not now.” A low laugh rumbled out of him.

Her heart flooded with tears. "Much, we must talk. You cannot continue living in this way.”

Much shook his head. “I don’t know how to live, Eve.”

“You have become a ghost of yourself! You are killing yourself!" Her voice was full of anguish.

“And what can I do, Eve?” Much enquired, his eyes revealing something like eternal sadness. “I served King Richard and Robin! And now they both are dead! Do you understand that they both are dead?”

“Yes, it is possible.”

He let out a tragic laugh. “Forgive me, Eve,” he said morosely. “I failed you as a husband and as a man. The king officially elevated me to the Earl of Bonchurch, but my title means nothing if our liege never returns to England. You will never become Lady Bonchurch; I cannot give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t need titles and wealth, Much.”

“You deserve only the best,” he accented.

Eve placed the candle on a table and stood in front of Much, her arms crossed over her chest. “Much, I want you to become yourself, not only for my own happiness and amusement.” She emitted a heavy sigh. “I want you to be the Much of old times for your friends and, most importantly, for Robin Hood.” She hated bringing Robin up during their conversation, but she hoped that it would cheer Much up.

“It is impossible," Much said in a broken voice.

Eve frowned in confusion. "Why?”

Much glanced at the goblet of wine, quickly grabbed it, and drunk the contents down. Then he slammed the empty goblet on the table. “It is rumored that King Richard is dead and that Prince John has scheduled his coronation next week.” Tears shimmered in his eyes. “Most likely, the king is no longer in the world of the living. The prince murdered our liege on the way home from Acre. The England of the old days is gone.”

“Even if King Richard is really dead, it doesn’t mean that you should die with him, Much.”

“Eve, you don’t understand what I feel, but I don’t blame you,” Much forced the words to come out, for what he was going to say was more than unbearable for him. “I served King Richard together with Robin, and I was very loyal to our liege; of course, I was more loyal to Robin than to the king and anybody else. I admired and loved the king, because he was a great warrior and generous man, but I mostly loved him because he loved Robin and Robin loved our liege. I always loved those whom Robin loved."

Eve felt as if a whip slashed across her cheek, cutting it, and instantly coming again. He was again talking about Robin Hood! Hurt, betrayal, humiliation and anger roared in her mind, drowning any other sounds. She took several calming breaths and fought to make her voice sound neutral as she spoke; she failed, and her voice was laced with jealousy. "I know that you loved Robin Hood. You loved your former master more than you loved the king. You followed Robin to the Holy Land, where he dragged you with him.”

Much grimaced. “Eve, please never say anything bad about Robin! Don’t you dare criticize Robin!”

Eve sighed frustratingly. Robin stood between her and her husband! Much always defended Robin and was mean to everyone who said anything bad about the dead hero of the poor and downtrodden. Once Eve had said that Robin was a selfish man who loved Much but never treated him as an equal and as a nobleman whom he himself had made Much. Much’s reaction had been vocal and wild: he had been so angry that uncontrolled outbursts of anger had been coming from him like stormy waves erupting from a tempestuous sea, blasting into Eve’s face and dousing her from head to toe; he didn’t talk to her until she apologized.

“I am sorry,” she feigned an apology. Annoyance started to ooze through her calm demeanor.

Much burst into a tirade, “Robin didn’t force me to go to the Holy Land. When I accompanied him to Acre twice, I followed him willingly because I would have never abandoned him. He offered me to stay in Locksley, but I refused – I refused twice.” He refilled the goblet, intending to drink more tonight. The wine was his sweet haven, hiding him from the real world in a red haze of intoxication for a few hours.

She feared that he could become addicted to wine, but she didn’t voice her thoughts. With a shake of her head, she warded off her anger and resentment, and then she spoke sedately. “I know, Much, I am sorry.”

He shrugged and took a long swallow of wine. “Now Robin is dead, and the king is dead as well. It means that everything we did was useless – Robin Hood’s cause was no more than words and vague hopes.”

Eve understood that. “Much, it is very sad that everything ended up in this way.”

Much set the goblet on the table. He swept his eyes over the room, his eyes glassy as if he gazed at worlds beyond his comprehension. “If only it were that simple,” he mumbled. He let out a short laugh; then he tried to pull himself together, refocusing his attention on the face of his wife. “But you, Eve, didn’t fight for King Richard and Robin Hood. And now, when they both are gone and when Prince John will become king soon, my life seems empty. Everything was lost – we fought for nothing.”

"Much, my poor Much," she said in a mournful tone.

“I failed to save Robin, and, as a result, the king was murdered.” He fixed his wife with his bleary-eyed gaze, his face awry with pain. “Robin would have saved the king, but he is dead.” He gulped more wine. “Everyone I lived for, excluding you, is dead. Everything I did was for nothing.”

Eve couldn’t take it any longer. She stepped forward and took the goblet from his hand. Then she grasped Much’s shoulders and looked steadily into his eyes. "Much, don't blame yourself. You are not guilty of Robin’s death, and Robin would have been angry with you if he had seen you now. He loved you and wanted you to live even without him. Sheriff Vaisey killed him, and you had no chance to save him.”

Much glanced at her with the blankest eyes she had never seen before. “Robin told me that I am stronger than him.” Tears were brimming in his eyes. “I wanted to be strong for Robin and fight in his name, but everything changed when I heard the news that the king disappeared in the Mediterranean Sea.” A ghost of a smile rose up and then faded from his lips. “Robin was my most beloved friend and our great leader, and we couldn’t fight without him.” He sighed, and tears fell from his eyes. “ _I cannot fight without Robin_.”

Her hands on his shoulders, she murmured, "It is terrible, Much."

Much sniffled and shook his head in remembrance. “I abandoned everyone and come to you after we had failed to find Gisborne because at that time the rumors about the king’s death began to circulate. I was broken by Robin’s demise, but the news about the king’s possible death destroyed my heart and soul.”

“Oh, Much,” she whispered.

Much pulled his gaze from Eve’s face to the table, where Robin’s sheathed scimitar and Saracen bow rested. “Now Robin is dead, and England is gone. I have no strength to fight for nothing; I cannot help them.” He looked back at Eve. “I have only you, Eve. Without Robin, only you may save me from madness.”

A peculiar form of jealousy tore at her: she was jealous of Much to Robin, the king, and England. She was too wrought up to speak calmly, but she still managed to steady her voice. “Oh, Much! My dear Much!”

Eve scooped Much into her arms, and they froze in a tight, warm embrace. They didn’t know that during all this time, the very-much-alive Robin Hood was watching them and listening to their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> Now Robin, Guy, and Archer know the truth about Ghislane of Gisborne’s death in the fire at Gisborne Manor. Of course, Archer is not pleased to know that his father murdered his mother, and he leaves. Guy hates Malcolm, but he doesn’t kill the man because Malcolm is Robin and Archer’s father – I wanted to show that Guy may be honorable even to those whom he hates and loathes. And now Robin knows that his father was a coward who abandoned him to his fate when he was kidnapped by Bailiff Longthorn.
> 
> Those reviewers who wrote that Robin and Archer will never have a close relationship with Malcolm were right. Robin will forgive his father just because he is Robin and he has a big and kind heart. Guy will never be able to overlook loathing for Malcolm as well. But Malcolm will reappear later, in chapter 15, in the siege of Nottingham, for he has his own role in this story/novel.
> 
> Guy and Megan have found common ground, which is not strange because they survived through hell in the underground dungeons and the emotions they experienced before their execution are cut from the same cloth. Megan saved Guy’s life when he was tortured in the dungeons and she also saved him from the Baron of Rotherham. Guy will repay his debt to her in one of the future chapters; he will have his moment of heroism in this part of the trilogy. Guy feels something quite deep for her, but his feelings are entwined in a web of confusion: he remembers Marian and he is attracted to Megan.
> 
> I am experiencing a great pleasure writing Robin and Guy’s verbal skirmishes. I love Robin’s sharp wit and sarcasm, and I think that my Robin is probably even wittier than he is in the show. Guy is sarcastic as well, but not as much as Robin. Guy and Robin’s relationship is changing to the better: they have become allies, and Robin accepted Guy as one of his men, but of course Robin’s friends dislike Guy a lot.
> 
> Much! Poor dear Much! He was broken by Robin’s death in Imuiz, for he loves Robin more than anybody else in the world. Much married Eve in Robin’s absence! I thought that Much would go to Eve after Robin’s death because he is broken and wanted to find comfort in her arms. Robin heard Much’s conversation with Eve, and Much will meet with his most beloved friend in the next chapter.
> 
> Robin talked to Kate about her treachery. Kate fancies Allan, and he fancies her.
> 
> In the next chapter, Robin and Guy face Prince John. There is the grand resurrection of Robin Hodo and Guy of Gisborne as allies. Marian and Melisende reappear in the next chapter.


	5. Long Live the King!

**Chapter 5**

**Long Live the King!**

Robin felt his hands shaking as his emotions peaked after listening to Much’s confession. He had been standing behind the curtains for some time and had managed to overhear a significant part of Much’s conversation with Eve. The Earl of Huntingdon had come to Eve’s cottage in his usual eccentric fashion: he hadn’t used the door and had climbed to the window like he had climbed to Marian’s window when she had lived at Knighton Hall and he had visited her frequently in secret, without Sir Edward’s knowledge.

An arrow flew through the air, an inch from Much and Eve’s heads, and hit the wall behind the couple. Much and Eve disentangled from their embrace, their frantic eyes wandering around. They swung around to face the intruder and saw someone whose appearance made them gasp in shock. A hooded Robin stood near the window, dressed in his old forest garb; he held his bow in his hands, and, of course, he hadn’t targeted Much or Eve when had shot an arrow.

“Much, you have not only Eve,” Robin said in shaking voice. “You have me too.”

Much took several steps back. “No,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “I am simply drunk.”

Eve looked frightened. “Who are you, my lord?”

Robin laughed merrily, and then removed his hood and tossed his sandy-haired hair. “Much, you have me. I have come to see you.” He canted his head slightly, a wry grin on his lips. “I will never leave you again, my friend, unless you are bored with my mischief and want to get rid of me.”

Eve’s eyes grew wider, her hands were shaking. “How do you know my husband?”

Robin smiled cordially. “I have known him since early childhood, Eve.”

Much shook his head. “This is Robin Hood’s spirit,” he said, his gaze glowing with joy. “Robin, you have come to me! I wanted to see you at least once more in my life! And you have come!”

Eve gasped in shock. “You are Robin Hood’s ghost!”

Robin threw his head back and laughed outright. As his laugh faded away, he gazed at Much, his eyes sparkling with gladness. “I am not a spirit or a ghost. I am alive and I am here.”

Much looked attentively at Robin, his heart hammering harder and harder; Robin stared back at him. Much shook his head, then rubbed his eyes as he was trying to clear his mind, and then glanced back at Robin. The world was still, very still, as Robin and Much contemplated each other, the former master with a prankish smile on his face and Much with a grimace of pain and distrust. They didn’t speak for a long, long moment, and Much felt a tenuous hope uncoil and stretch inside of him.

“Are you really alive?” Much broke the silence at last, shaking his head, his expression dumbfounded.

All at once, Much felt his head clearing from the drunken haze, for the shock from Robin’s appearance sobered him. Yet, he looked at Robin as if he were watching an eternal ebb and flow of dark waves with wide, dazed eyes. He couldn’t believe that Robin was alive, feeling like a hunter chasing the elusive phoenix, still fearing that Robin was a ghost, not a breathing human being who stood so close to him, grinning at him in a familiar haughty and playful manner. As if a brilliant flash of golden light in his mind, the scene of Robin’s death and their farewell resurfaced in Much’s mind, bringing tears to his eyes.

Robin felt fear gripping his heart at the sight of his distraught friend. He longed more than ever to feel his friend’s arms around him, hear Much’s ranting and singing, which often irritated and annoyed him, and hear Much’s voice whispering to him tender words of love, devotion, and loyalty. He wished to hear the same words Much had said while holding his hand and witnessing how Robin had drawn what they had believed to be his last breath. But now Robin was fearful that he wouldn’t hear these words.

Robin gave a slight nod. “Yes, Much, I am alive.”

Eve shrugged. “Oh my Lord!”

Much’s expression was hurt. “If you are alive, then why I haven’t known this for a long time, Robin?” A wealth of emotions rushed through his core – amazement, disbelief, happiness, and then anger. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been informed about Robin’s survival.

Robin sensed his friend’s state and could guess his thoughts, praying that Much’s anger would fade away swiftly. “Much, I would have never parted with you and deceived you willingly, but the circumstances were such that I had to do that.” He paused for a moment, then swallowed hard, trying to think of the best way to express his thoughts in words. “When my body was lost in a sandstorm, I was barely alive.”

Much looked confused. “But I was there and watched you die when you… removed your scimitar… out of your body.” His eyes vacillated between Robin and the scimitar on the table. “Djaq said that you had died.”

Robin sighed. “It is not Djaq’s fault that you thought that I had died, for I was dead… for some time.”

Eve eyed the back-from-the-dead Robin Hood in confusion. There was nothing but a chill fog in her mind, for she understood nothing, although she knew the story of Robin’s death in details and already by heart. “When people die, they die. They don’t come back from the dead.” There was a tremble in her voice.

“At times it happens,” Robin responded in a mournful voice, “that you die and then resurrect.”

“It is a miracle, then,” Much surmised.

Robin flashed a smile. “It is… complicated. Djaq explained everything to me in medical terms, and only then I understood. I can try to repeat her words if you want.”

“Let’s consider it a miracle,” Eve stated perplexedly.

Much eyed Robin suspiciously. “Why wasn’t I notified that you were alive?”

“Nobody knew that I had survived for a long time. King Richard still doesn’t know that I am alive,” Robin enlightened. “When you sailed from Acre, nobody knew that.” His expression was pained for a split second before turning blank. “I was fighting for my life… for many months, and I couldn’t have returned earlier.”

“The king is alive?” Eve asked curiously, her heart beating faster.

“Yes,” Robin confirmed. “King Richard is alive, but he… was taken prisoner in Austria. I hope that he will be released soon.” The king’s capture weighed heavily upon his heart, and he sighed heavily.

“And you are planning to save him?” Eve’s voice was edged with undisguised sarcasm.

Robin glared at her. “Of course.”

“What happened to you, Robin?” Much questioned in an impatient voice.

Robin began to relay the story of his survival. As he spoke, his voice trembled with some strong emotion, for memories were too painful for him. “This is the whole story.”

As she listened to Robin’s tale, she noted tears in Much’s eyes. She focused her attention on Much’s face and could read his mind, for her husband wasn’t a man who guarded his emotions very well. She knew what would follow– Much would join Robin Hood in his fight and together they would save the king.

Much watched Robin, disbelief and distrust finally giving their way to a feeling of enormous relief. Robin was really alive! Powerful emotions unleashed in him, and he laughed with a blithesome laugh. Then black fury seized him as he realized that Robin had had a chance to contact him but had chosen to keep his survival a secret for months, until the day of Gisborne’s execution. Robin was the only person who might have made him so happy and simultaneously so angry.

Much stood still for a moment, every muscle in his body tensed with a pent-up, hot anger. “But if you regained your consciousness in several months while you were in Jerusalem, why didn’t you send a message to us?” His brain was working, spinning one scenario after another, but he couldn’t find an answer. “Was it your intention to make us nervous? You don’t care that I suffered, do you?”

Robin let out a weary breath; all the muscles in his body were strained, and he gripped his bow so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “The king was already on his way home, and I didn’t know which route he had taken. I also feared that the Black Knights might have intercepted the messenger.”

“And that’s why nobody knew about your survival,” Much finished in a nearly rude tone. The heat of anger and the bitterness of disappointment lent power to his voice.

“It is one of the reasons,” Robin admitted. “My life was in grave danger, and it was not clear whether I would die or live. There was no sense to inform you if they were not sure of my survival.”

“It does make some sense, but only some,” Much muttered. Yet, he was angry. His jaw was rigid, his eyes flaming into Robin with a palpable heat. “Robin, I understand why you did that, but you thought of the Black Knights and the king’s safety – you never thought of me.”

Robin’s heart collapsed at the thought that he had perhaps betrayed Much in a way, although he still considered his decision a right choice. “Much, I swear I thought of you, very often. I missed you so much,” he said sincerely. “I am sorry if I hurt you, Much. I didn’t see any other way to contact you – only to come back and find you, which I eventually did. Believe me that I couldn’t have returned earlier.”

Much didn’t reply straight away. He was angry with Robin, very angry, for he wanted to be at Robin’s side and help the hero recover. He wished to be in Jerusalem with Robin, holding Robin’s hand and nursing him back to life. He would have done everything for Robin – he would have gladly died for Robin.

Much’s expression softened. “I understand – you needed time to recover and recuperate.”

“Yes.” Robin smiled, relieved that Much’s anger had slackened.

Eve gave an ironic smile. “So Robin Hood comes back from the dead and takes my husband on a new insane mission to save the absentee king. Is it what you are going to do, Lord Huntingdon?” She picked nervously at an errant thread on her gown. “You were sick in the Holy Land while everyone was grieving the loss of their hero, who didn’t send a message about his survival to his friends.”

Robin glanced away, irritated. “I couldn’t come back earlier.”

“Eve, he explained everything,” Much pointed out harshly.

“Much, you always defend Sir Robin and join him at his first call,” Eve continued, displeasure obvious in her voice. She shot Robin a reproachful look. “While you, Robin Hood, were recovering in luxury in Jerusalem, my husband shut himself in one room, always with a goblet of wine in his hand until he drank himself unconscious. And now you want to take him from me!”

Robin cringed. “I am not forcing him to save the king.”

“Eve!” Much barked in such a rude tone that Eve flinched.

Much slowly walked to Robin and stopped near the resurrected man. He wanted to touch Robin to be sure that his friend was not a product of his imagination. He was still struggling to shake off feelings of disbelief and confusion, to recognize anything at all in the thick wall of fog which surrounded him, for it was still so difficult to believe that Robin was alive and had returned from Acre.

As Much lowered his gaze and lingered it at Robin’s midsection, Robin caught a glimpse of disbelief on his friend’s face. He knew what he had to do. He put his bow on the window-ledge and stepped to where Much stood. Then he unfastened his leather jerkin and pulled up his shirt, revealing a midline ugly scar on his lower abdomen. The area around the healed wound was still of slightly red color due to the aggravated scar tissue formation. Djaq’s soaking therapy had helped make most of the damaged skin almost normal, but she said that perhaps the skin around the wound would be marred forever.

Much gasped at the sight of Robin’s scar, and his heart skipped a beat. He was terrified of the tragedy that had happened to Robin; he also felt dizzy with happiness that Robin was alive. A wave of pure joy swept over him healing his spirits and heart, and he felt that he had never been as happy as he was at this very moment. Emotions flooding through him, he rushed to Robin and gathered him into his arms.

An overjoyed Much swept Robin off his feet, raised him in the air, and spun around, lamenting that Robin had forgotten him. Then he placed Robin on his feet and again engulfed him in a warm embrace, which Robin eagerly returned. They froze in an embrace, feeling connected in intangible and infinite ways.

“Robin, my Robin,” Much whispered, tears of happiness welling in his eyes. “You are alive. You came back to me. I will never let you go. I cannot live without you.”

“I am not going to leave you, my friend,” Robin murmured, smiling. “I am not going to let you go.”

Much laughed. “Thank be to God that you are alive. Now we will save King Richard and England.”

Tears sprang to his eyes as Robin buried his head into Much’s shoulder. “We will save the king together.”

Much was overwhelmed with happiness that was as powerful and narcotic as opium. His control slipped away, and he broke into sobs, burying his head on Robin’s right shoulder, while Robin’s head rested on Much’s left shoulder. Much collapsed in Robin’s arms, pressing his former master to himself so tightly that Robin groaned in pain. There was a grimace of pain on Robin’s face as Much drew back, his face concerned.

“Are you alright, Robin?” Much asked, scanning Robin from top to toe.

Robin smiled. “I am fine. Just don’t press me to yourself so close.”

“I will do everything for you because you are everything to me,” Much murmured, his eyes beaming.

Much pulled Robin into his arms again, gently and cautious, and Robin hugged his former manservant back with the most sincere affection. Much began stroking Robin’s hair, and then he pressed a kiss on the top of Robin’s head, still holding him close. Robin was unable to guard his emotions any longer, letting tears of happiness fall from his eyes and roll down their cheeks. They sobbed in their tight embrace for a short moment, releasing all of the accumulated anguish and pain in a torrent of tears.

Robin and Much were again together. It was the reunion of two loyal friends who loved one another and were ready die for each other. Robin loved his loyal friend with all his heart, and he was in a state of blissful happiness to feel Much so close. But for Much everything went deeper: _Robin was a bluebird of happiness for him, and Much loved the sandy-haired man with a primal devotion, more than he loved any other living creature in the world_. Robin was Much’s world, and his love for Robin was too deep and too powerful.

As he pulled back, Much smiled brightly, looking into Robin’s pale blue eyes, the most beautiful in the world in Much’s opinion. “I will never allow anyone to kill you, Robin. I will protect you with my life.”

Robin smiled back at his friend. “I am not going to die, and neither are you, Much,” he said softly, tears brimming in his eyes. “We will always be together.”

Eve stood nearby, watching the dramatic reunion of the legendary hero and his ever-loyal friend. She was conflicted over Robin’s resurrection, for she knew the consequences and the two men had already said that they would save the king. And she was very jealous of Much to Robin.

She was delighted that Robin had survived and returned to England, for the heartrending story of Robin’s sacrifice in Acre touched her heart. Yet, she could not bring herself to think of what would happen to her when Much would leave her again. She knew that Much would find her after they had finished their missions, but it didn’t lessen her heartbreak. Moreover, Robin’s return awoke a deep sense of foreboding in Eve, and she feared that she wouldn’t see Much for a long time, or, perhaps, never again.

Watching Much’s great and utter devotion to Robin, selfless and whole-souled and probably not bounded even by death, Eve thought that Robin didn’t deserve such deep affection and loyalty from her husband. Much never complained to her on Robin and never shared with her his memories about the moments when Robin’s attitude towards him was hurtful and callous, but Eve was able to see the truth behind his words, and once she herself had witnessed that when she had come to the forest to ask for help after she had left Bonchurch Lodge. The world was filled with tales of the heroic Robin Hood and his bravery, but there were few tales about loyal and loving Much, and Eve believed that it was unfair.

§§§

During the last few weeks, there was a frosty weather in London, unusually cold for this time of the year, and the pavements were frozen and slippery. At day, it thawed in the sun, and mud clogged the streets, but at night the surface froze again, for sometimes temperatures plummeted below zero. Tonight, it was raining heavily since early morning, and thanks to the damp weather for the first time in many weeks, the London air, generally thick with coal dust and fog, was clear, cool, and fresh.

Dressed in a black velvet coat, her clothes as dark as the night itself, Lady Melisende Plantagenet stepped out of the boat, breathing in the fresh night air; she was followed by her loyal lady-in-waiting, Lady Catherine de Mathefelon, who was one of the very few people whom she still trusted. Melisende had arrived in London today in the morning, but she didn’t go straight to the Tower of London, for she had a lot of things to do in accordance with the plan which Robin and she had made up after their meeting in Aquitaine; they had modified this plan this morning after learning certain news about Prince John’s plans.

Melisende was walking towards the White Tower, heading to the royal armory. She was agitated and excited as she went along the road leading from the Thames to the Tower. She raised her eyes, looking at the clear dark sky and praying that nothing unexpected would happen today and tomorrow. But whatever happened, she knew that she would do everything to stop Prince John and save King Richard, her sovereign, her beloved cousin, and her dear friend. Too much was at stake in the coming hours!

It began to thunder in the distance, somewhere above the river, and a black cloud spread over one-third of the sky. Melisende cursed London for its weather and the damp English climate which she had never loved, instead being fond of the mildly warm climate of Aquitaine. Feeling drops of rain on her face, she donned the hood of her mantle, from the corner of her eye watching her lady-in-waiting do the same. In a minute, the rain came down in torrents, and the lightning lit up the sky.

Melisende and Catherine were relieved when they finally entered the White Tower. They made their way to the armory through the empty corridors, lit by the flickering torches that hung along the walls. As their approached the armory, Melisende stopped near the door, and, turning to Catherine, nodded at her, signaling that she was ready. Her heart thundering in her chest, Melisende pushed the door open, and the two women came inside, their figures casting tall shadows on the walls that shone white in the moonlight.

The armory glowed in the orange flames from the two torches on the opposite walls of the room. Peering into the semi-darkness, Melisende saw whom she needed to find, her eyes taking in a large male figure of the soldier in a black-and-yellow uniform; the man was one of Isabella of Gisborne’s most loyal guards.

Melisende unsheathed her French sword and advanced forward, intending to attack the man from the back. Unfortunately, the soldier sensed the danger and swung around to face his enemy. He immediately drew his sword and prepared to attack, but he stopped, staring at the young beautiful lady with long red-gold hair and violet eyes, his eyes widening in astonishment.

The man smiled, thinking that she didn’t pose a threat. “My lady, you have chosen a good time for coming here,” He chuckled, his gaze lingering at her sword in her hand and then traveling to her face. “What can such a beautiful young woman know about swordfight?”

Melisende smiled knavishly, her violet eyes glowing with mischief. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be sure that a lady cannot use a sword. Today you are doomed to disappointment.”

The man laughed. “My lady, you should go home and do your embroidery.”

Catherine de Mathefelon, who stood at Melisende’s right sight, laughed. “You might be surprised.”

“Oh, he will be more than merely surprised,” Melisende retorted teasingly.

All at once, Melisende swung her sword in a deathly arc with a great force, surprising her opponent. The man parried and lunged at her with a downward blow, which she blocked easily, laughing at him. The clang of blade on blade filled the chamber, punctured by an occasional growling grunt of Isabella’s guard and the laughter of the king’s cousin. Melisende and the guard fought furiously, and the man was clearly shocked with her skilled and harsh swordplay. In a couple of minutes, Melisende disabled her opponent with a slice to one of his legs, and he tumbled to the floor, his expression horrified.

Melisende raised her sword above the man. “I am sorry, but I have to kill you,” she said apologetically.

The man’s expression evolved into horror. “No, no! Please, no!”

Melisende shook her head, her expression showing no hesitation. “I have to do this.”

Catherine, who had seen more than a large share of professional swordplay from her mistress, was left breathless watching Melisende’s sword flying in the air and penetrating the man’s chest deeply. The man was dead, his expression contorted in horror and shock.

Melisende withdrew her sword out of the man’s body. “For England! For Richard! For Robin!”

“For England! For King Richard! For Sir Robin!” Catherine intoned.

Melisende and Catherine together dragged the body of the murdered guard to the window. Catherine grabbed the man’s bag and his weapons, while Melisende crouched and rummaged in his pockets. She found what she needed – a parchment with Isabella of Gisborne’s personal seal.

Melisende unrolled the parchment, scanning it with her eyes. “This is exactly what we need. John won’t learn that Robin survived until my husband makes an appearance.”

“And Isabella of Gisborne will suffer,” Catherine added, her lips curving in a sly smile.

“I have no doubt, John will be angry.”

“He will be berserk with rage, Lady Melisende.”

Melisende chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, today we will watch a great performance.” She paused for an instant, feeling sorry for the man whom life had taken. She shook her head, reminding herself that she couldn’t have spared him. “John enjoys playing wicked games with everyone and everything, but he won’t win this time. In intrigues of every sort, cold and calculative thinking must come first, before everything else, and it is usually so when John is plotting. But, sometimes, the vehemence of his desire to be king overshadows his rationality, and we are fortunate that it is so.”

Making a sound of exasperation, Melisende pushed the shutter open, and fresh air leaked into the stale room. The window faced the Thames and the deserted part of the garden near the White Tower. She peered into the darkness, looking down, at the dark garden below. Shivering from the cold, she straightened her spine and stood silent for a moment, staring at the man she had killed.

“Let’s throw him into the garden,” Melisende commanded. “Nobody will find him tonight.”

With great effort, Melisende and Catherine lifted the huge corpse to the window-ledge. They paused for a moment, breathless, and then threw it down. Then Catherine closed the shutter, and Melisende stepped back, both women relieved that it was over.

“It is done, my lady,” Catherine broke a short silence. “What are we going to do now?”

Melisende sighed. “We need to go to Lady Marian’s chambers.”

Catherine gave her mistress a compassionate look. “It is alright, my lady.”

Melisende shrugged eloquently. “Robin will see Lady Marian in an hour, and I fear it may ruin my blissful happiness.” She lapsed into silence, looking down at her beautiful wedding ring – a golden ring with a large amethyst in the center, surrounded by ten small diamonds.

“Sir Robin loves you,” Catherine assured her. “His face glows and his eyes are sparkle when he looks at you.”

"I am afraid that Robin will look back,” Melisende said with an exaggerated grimace. “I am not angry with Lady Marian, but the knowledge of Robin being torn between me and her doesn’t make me happy.”

“He loves you,” Catherine repeated. “There is no other woman like you in the whole world.”

A look of vulnerability crossed Melisende’s face, but her expression changed into blankness in an instant. “But there is something that Robin doesn’t know. And he may use this thing to be free from me.”

“You mean that damned parchment that our spies found in Nottingham?”

“Yes, Catherine.”

Catherine’s keen glance discerned Melisende’s pain behind her mistress’ cold mask. “Will you tell Lord Huntingdon the truth? Maybe you should keep it a secret, my lady.”

“No,” Melisende rejected the opportunity. “I won’t lie to Robin. I will tell him everything.”

“You might be already carrying his second child.” Catherine had no doubt that Melisende and Robin had been intimate when they had met in an inn in the suburbs of London and had spent a few hours there.

The violet eyes coruscated with a million stars. “Robin and I were together in the morning, and it was… marvelous…” She smiled deplorably. “But no child will come out of this as I used special herbs. The timing for children is not perfect: Richard is in captivity, and we already have to keep our son Richard in safety.”

“Lady Melisende, you don’t want to have another child with Sir Robin because you are not sure of his reaction and decision when he sees this parchment,” Catherine verbalized Melisende’s reasoning.

“Yes, Catherine, you are right,” Melisende averred. “You know me too well.”

“Your husband loves you and your son! He will burn this parchment!”

“Maybe. But I don’t want to limit Robin’s choices.”

“Rest assured that he will do exactly what I say,” Catherine claimed.

Melisende shrugged and repeated, “Maybe.”

“You are too noble, my lady! If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t even show my husband this document!”

“Not a word!” Melisende said and laughed. “We speak too much, but we should go.” She looked at the parchment in her hand. “I will burn Isabella’s message to John very soon.”

Meanwhile, Lady Marian Fitzwater of Knighton sat on a large mahogany bed covered with white brocade tapestries. She was staring into the emptiness of the chamber, her gaze dull and vacant. Mentally, she wasn’t there, her mind reeling in the visions of the past as she reminisced about all of the happy moments and tragedies in her life, pondering over her choices and mistakes. A whole swarm of memories of Robin and Guy and her conduct towards them was whirling in her tired brain, and a wave of melancholy swept over her as she reflected on the outcome of her life – Robin had died for England and King Richard in the Holy Land and Guy was most likely executed in Nottingham for his attempt to do the right thing and kill Vaisey.

She eyed the chamber, her eyes taking in the luxury all around – rich Aubusson carpets covering the floor, soft and inviting couches placed along the walls, a magnificent sofa that offered high-piled cushions, and splendid paintings adorning the walls. The only table in the room was inlaid with marble and tortoise; it was covered with silver bowls overflowing with fruits and many delicacies, candlesticks, and silver goblets.

Marian wasn’t interested in the luxurious interior of the chamber that had become her prison. After Robin’s tragic demise in Acre, everything changed in her life: when Robin had died, opaque darkness had engulfed her entire being, and grief enshrouded her like a thick smoke. There was too much pain in her heart, and that pain was unbearable, so unbearable that she wished only to shut her eyes and forget that the day of Robin’s death had ever been real. She didn’t care about anything in her life: she was indifferent to everything, she was tired beyond measure, and she didn’t mind dying if only death could help her get rid of pain and anguish, which overwhelmed her to the core, threatening to suffocate her.

After their return to Nottingham and her arrest on the day of Vaisey’s death at Guy’s hands, Marian had lost any hope that her life would ever be close to normal. Even after Robin’s death, she had still held out a vague hope that King Richard would return and restore justice in England. She had still hoped that she could have somehow accepted Robin’s death and could have spent her life with Guy, trying to make him content with their marriage, even though she doubted that she could make him happy. But as she had learned the news of the king’s rumored death and Guy’s upcoming execution, Marian’s hope had perished, and she had begun to think that light would never triumph over darkness.

Since Prince John had made a deal with her about Guy’s life, she had been kept under a heavy guard of Prince John’s soldiers from the elite guard. She had departed from Nottingham together with the prince’s party, leaving Guy and the others behind. Since their arrival in London, she was confined to the luxurious chamber in the guest quarters, together with Sir Roger de Lacy, who was imprisoned in one of the nearby rooms; they were guarded day and night by at least twenty guards, and there was no route for escape.

With a malevolent smile on his face, Prince John had told Marian that she would have to marry the Earl of Buckingham. She had tried to persuade the prince to forget about the accursed betrothal agreement which Sir Edward of Knighton had signed in the moments of despair, when he had incarcerated in the dungeons and hoped to get out of the mess by giving his daughter’s hand to Buckingham. Marian still didn’t understand how her father could have believed Buckingham’s promises that they would be released if he had signed the betrothal agreement. She felt betrayed by her father who had known about her feelings for Robin and had still traded her life for their illusionary freedom.

Marian had promised Prince John that she wouldn’t try to escape if she had wanted Guy to live until the day of the prince’s coronation. By doing this, she had hoped to win more time for Guy and her. She had kept her word and had waited for a while, hoping that maybe King Richard would come back or one of Robin’s friends would rescue her. Yet, time had been passing with nothing happening: every day, Prince John had taunted her that Marian’s wedding to Buckingham and Guy’s execution would happen on the same day, and preparations for her wedding had begun. And then she had tried to flee, but failed; on the same evening, John had informed her that they would order Guy’s immediate execution to punish her for disobedience.

Very few people were admitted to the reluctant bride without the prince’s special permission. Only several maids, the Earl of Buckingham, and John himself were allowed to visit her in her apartments. It was known that she was kept hostage at the prince’s order as the Earl of Buckingham’s bride. It hadn’t surprised Marian when the Earl of Buckingham had notified her about an annulment of her marriage to Guy on the grounds of pre-contract to Buckingham by the Archbishop of Canterbury, at the special request of Prince John. Marian had already accepted the inevitability of annulment, although it was very painful for her to lose Guy after she had lost Robin to death.

Everything changed after Robin’s death, and Marian changed as well. Yet, she would have never allowed anyone to force her into a marriage with such a vile and black-hearted traitor like the Earl of Buckingham. Marian couldn’t have allowed Prince John to have her married off to one of his minions just because this man wanted that. She had already resigned to the necessity to live without both Robin and Guy, but she would never live under the rules that powerful men like Prince John imposed on her.

Marian lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. For a long time, she lay still, not moving, with wide-open eyes, praying that numbness would last forever and that she would forget all the tragedies of the past. “ _Robin is dead. Guy will be dead soon, if he is not already dead. It is almost over_ ,” she said to herself.

She didn’t even move when she heard approaching footsteps in the corridor, thinking that the prince’s guards were patrolling the Tower. In a moment, the heavy oak door opened, and the Earl of Buckingham walked in; he paused at the doorway, observing his captive bride. Sensing his presence, Marian sat on the bed, looking into the flames of the flickering torches and not sparing a glance in his direction.

“Have your mood improved, Lady Marian?” the Earl of Buckingham began, smiling with a venomously sweet smile. “Has my reluctant bride finally surrendered to my will and pleasure?”

Buckingham scanned Marian’s slender curves covered from his hungry eyes by a luxurious gown of blue silk and satin, trimmed with the finest light blue lace on the sleeves and along the square-cut neckline. While she was kept hostage, Buckingham lavished her not only with his attention, but also with numerous expensive gifts, which she didn’t accept, excluding gowns and only because she had nothing to wear.

The earl was obsessed with Marian. She was very beautiful, and he wanted her as much as he had never wanted any other woman before. She was lovely and exquisite, and he especially liked her shimmering sapphire blue eyes that always challenged him to fight and made a jest of him. Her skin was ivory and without a hint of imperfection, and he made a quick perusal of her body. He regretted that she was dressed, for he wanted her madly that ran so deep that he feared he would lose his sanity. His desire to take Marian as his wife was growing every day; he would never let her go and would marry her against her will.

 “I will never surrender to a scum like you,” Marian replied coldly, not even giving him a glance.

Buckingham scoffed. “I have always been fond of temperamental and spirited women, like you, my dear Lady Marian.” He advanced forward. “But I am fed up with your stubbornness. I will make you respect me.”

“I will never be yours, Lord Buckingham.”

“Did you forget that you are already mine, Lady Marian?”

Marian clenched her fists. She loathed the Earl of Buckingham wholeheartedly, like she had loathed Sheriff Vaisey. She tried to ignore him and keep her facade cool when he came to her golden cage to gloat, always reminding her that soon they would be married and she would be obliged to obey him and please in all ways he wanted. Every time she told him that she would never capitulate, but he refused to listen.

“Will you ever leave me in peace?” Her voice was cold and indifferent. “Will you ever stop coming to me, always swaggering and showing off your wealth, and demanding my obedience to you?”

A surge of desire rushed through him, almost obliterating all coherent thought. “You are so beautiful,” he said in a throaty voice. “I want to take you and squeeze you till the passion starts to rise in your cold heart. I want to take you to a world of pleasures. I want to make love to you until you scream. And I will, my lady.”

Marian rolled her eyes in irritation. She was accustomed to the earl’s outbursts of odd affection which disgusted her in the extreme; but every time he spoke about his desire to make her his, she became exasperated. “Only in your dreams!” she snapped. Then she firmly asserted again, “Only in your dreams.”

He bellowed, “I will have you! I will have my way with you. I will make you ache and groan!”

“Only if I am dead,” she supplied.

Buckingham relaxed slightly, and his anger receded. “You won’t be dead – you will be my wife, my little darling!” he proclaimed, sneering. “I have wanted you since the first moment when I met you in the castle in Nottingham. I did everything to persuade your father to sign the betrothal agreement. Now, when Prince John gave me everything I wished – and I wished to have you – I will have you at any cost.”

“My father never told me about this betrothal agreement,” she answered composedly.

Buckingham laughed nastily. “My lady, Sir Edward of Knighton was a weak old fool,” he said waspishly. “I promised him that I would let you and him lead a comfortable life, keeping you out of danger from the Black Knights and everyone, if he agreed to give me your hand in a marriage.”

“You imply that giving my father this promise was enough to make him sign the betrothal agreement?” She let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe you pushed him to do that? What did you do to him?”

He scoffed. “Yes, I did something else. I always get what I want.”

That was more than Marian could bear. Rage and defiance welled up within her, and she jumped to her feet; she stood in front of him, looking into his eyes, her own eyes blazing with anger. “Lord Buckingham, tell me the truth how you made my father agree to this absurd betrothal?”

The Earl of Buckingham looked at her straight in the eye. “I told him that I would kill you with my own hands if he didn’t agree to sign the agreement.” He laughed. “I lied because I would have never murdered such a lovely woman like you, but I had to scare the old fool out of his wits to get what I wanted.”

§§§

An ominous silence stretched between Marian and the Earl of Buckingham. As he stared at her with an impudent gaze and a haughty expression on his face, Marian of Knighton felt hot anger overwhelming her to the deepest depths of her heart, and her expression showed an irrepressible hatred.

Marian hated Prince John and all of his minions, cursing their villainous souls that thrived on nothing but ambition and desire for supremacy. She hated the prince and the Black Knights with a burning, murderous hatred, for they caused too much harm to England, King Richard, Robin, Guy, and many innocents who suffered because of their vileness and greed. She despised everyone in Prince John’s entourage, for every friend of the lecherous usurper was an enemy of England, the king, and the people.

Marian narrowed her eyes to slits, black fury coursing through her entire being. “You are one of the lowest scoundrels on earth. Your heart is entirely black.” Her voice was sodden with sheer contempt. “Only Sheriff Vaisey was worse than you are.” She gritted her teeth. “I loathe you with all my heart!”

The earl’s eyes widened, his face turning red in anger. “No woman will ever say such things to me and about me!” he screamed as he unfastened his belt and advanced forward at her. “I like spirited girls, and your spirit draws me to you like a magnet, but today you have crossed a line.”

She caught a glimpse of the belt in his hands, feeling her body shaking in fear. Yet, her expression was impenetrable as she stared back at him boldly, challenging him and hating him. “I said the truth about you, and if you cannot accept it, then you are a weakling, even lower than I thought.”

The Earl of Buckingham made several steps forward. “You are a foolish and disobedient bitch, but you will learn to obey and respect me! I will break you! You will learn to do what I command!”

Marian was scared, but she forced herself to look composed. “You think that an unruly wife must be put in her place, no matter her rank? Is that so?” She smirked. “I don’t bow my head to infants.”

Buckingham reached Marian and struck her with his large palm across her face. Marian staggered backwards, but didn’t lose her balance and laughed into his face, which enraged him even more. He slapped her hard against her cheek again, and she laughed again, steeling herself against physical pain and hurt.

“I will teach you obedience!” Buckingham bawled out.

With a cry of outrage, he struck her with the belt across her face, and she again welcomed the sting of the blow with a malicious laugh as it spread across her cheek.

Marian looked into his eyes, smiling poisonously. “You are not a man – you are worse than an animal. No woman in the world can ever be happy with such a worm like you. And even if you marry me by force, you will never be my lord and master! You will never bend me to your will, never!”

“By Christ, you will obey me! You will be mine!” He shouted as he struck her again.

“Never ever!” Marian shot back. A chill went through her entire body, reminding her of the mortal dread she had felt before – when Robin had died in Acre and when she had been told about Guy’s execution. Only now she was afraid of the Earl of Buckingham, more terrified of being raped than of being beaten.

A new blow was so powerful that Marian tumbled to the floor, looking up at him with hate-filled eyes that glowed in flames and sparkled with the color of blood. Her hatred and loathing gave her strength, and she bounced to her feet like an angry cat, glaring at him fiercely. She raised her hand and struck him back.

Buckingham recoiled from her, cupping his cheek; then he lowered his hand and looked at the blood on his fingers. “Lady Marian, you have gone too far today. I don’t know what Robin of Locksley and Guy of Gisborne permitted you to do when you were with them, but I will never allow you to humiliate me!”

Buckingham seized her arms in a vise grip and began to beat her with his fists and his belt, for her resistance and defiance made him berserk with rage. And Marian struggled, kicking him and hitting him and trying to escape his grasp, but he was stronger and faster.

As she lay on the floor, feeling blood dribble from her cut lip, she stared at him without any trace of fear. “Prince John may assassinate King Richard, like Vaisey killed Robin Hood, and then become King of England. And then he may give you power beyond measure which you are itching to have,” she hissed at him, her sapphire eyes coruscating with a flame of hatred. “But even in this case, men like Prince John and you will never domesticate and subdue me!” And then she spat into his face.

Marian’s last words drew a scream of rage from Buckingham, pushing him to the verge of sanity. He drew back from her and kicked her in the ribs with all of the brutal force he possessed. As he struck her in the chest again, Marian groaned and then howled with pain as he continued beating her with his fists.  She could barely breathe, and the world closed into the darkness around her as she saw him raising his fist again, sneering at her vulnerability and intending to ram it into her face.

Nevertheless, nothing followed. Marian was barely aware of what happened next as she heard someone’s alarmed voices talking to her and calling her by her name. She felt someone’s hands lifting her from the floor and shaking her in an attempt to snap her out of her pain-induced slumber. But she didn’t react, for the pain Buckingham had caused her was too great. The awful thought thrived in her mind that she wanted to die and be free from all her pain and misery, like she was now free from her old dreams.

“Lady Marian, please open your eyes,” a female voice entreated. “Please! Please!”

Marian shuddered as she felt someone’s gentle touch on her face. “If you want to kill me, do it now,” she whispered. “Just do it.” She was in pain, and each breath she drew was like an agony.

“You are very strong; you are as strong as I believed you are,” the same voice spoke to Marian again. “No wonder Robin was so emotionally attached to you. I do really understand him.”

Marian opened her eyes, her face evolving into confusion and then into sheer amazement. The sapphire blue eyes locked with the violet eyes of the woman whom Marian had last seen in Acre.

“Lady Melisende,” Marian murmured, astonished to see the king’s cousin. She turned her head, her eyes fixing on the unconscious Earl of Buckingham; a heavy candlestick lay on the floor near his body. She smiled at the realization that Melisende had attacked her tormentor and had rendered him unconscious.

“Yes, Lady Marian.” Melisende gave the other woman a cold and entrancing smile. She cast a scornful glance at Buckingham. “He is alive, but I don’t think he will awake during the next few hours.”

“You hit him?” asked an impressed Marian.

“I did, but he did deserve that.”

Marian smiled. “Indeed, he did.”

“Now stand up,” Melisende requested. “We need to hurry and get out of here while we have time.”

Marian pulled herself into a sitting position. “To get out?”

Melisende nodded. “Yes. We will save you from a marriage to Lord Buckingham. There are no guards in the corridor, and we will be able to sneak out of this part of the Tower unnoticed.”

Marian blinked in shock, for she didn’t expect that Melisende of all people in the world would want to help her. “What are you helping me, Lady Melisende?”

Marian eyed Melisende, thinking that the lady was still as queenly beautiful as she remembered her from their few meetings in Acre. Melisende wore a low-cut eccentric gown made out of the finest violet silk, with charming bell-shaped sleeves that ended at the elbow; a gorgeous necklace of rose-gold and pink diamonds adorned her neck. Marian smiled at the thought that Melisende’s gown was again of violet color, matching the color of her eyes and brilliantly contrasting with her red-gold hair streaming down her shoulders.

She didn’t know what to think of Melisende, for she was an extraordinary woman, who was both ruthless and compassionate. She liked her and was grateful to her for her salvation from Buckingham, but she still felt uneasy due to the fact that Robin had married Melisende several months before his death. Melisende intrigued and impressed Marian, for there was something greater in her than her queenly beauty, her inexhaustible energy, her colossal inner strength, and her undeniable intelligence. Yet, there was also something else in the king’s cousin that made Marian cringe: loveliness and charmed effloresced in every direction from Melisende, but there was a sort of fatality in her, like the fatality of some antique tragedy.

Melisende remained silent for a while. “You are a human being, right?” she asked after a long pause.

Marian nodded numbly. “Yes, I am.”

“Well, I have to confess that I am also doing that for someone else,” Melisende supplied, her eyes glowing at the thought of her husband. “I think that Robin would want that.”

Marian smiled languidly. “Robin,” she whispered.

“Now we must hurry,” Melisende hurried to say, feeling a twinge of jealousy stab through her heart. “We must make you presentable before you can meet… with someone and watch something.”

Marian asked Melisende what she had meant, but no answer followed. Melisende only smiled at her enigmatically, saying that she would learn everything very soon. Marian was puzzled, but she didn’t dare ask the same question again. The king’s cousin climbed to her feet, walked to the pitcher, and poured some fresh water into a large alabaster cup. Then Melisende returned and helped Marian stand up and wash her face.

“Lord Buckingham caused you much harm, but you are very lucky. You don’t even have many bruises on your face,” Melisende commented in a concerned tone as she touched Marian’s split lip.

“Only thanks to your interference,” Marian responded gratefully. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but she still felt pain in her ribcage; she feared that he had probably broken her ribs.

Melisende noticed her discomfort. “Now we must go, but later you will need to be examined by a doctor.”

“I am fine,” Marian lied.

“There is no need to play a hero when you feel unwell, Lady Marian.”

Marian looked at the other woman with slightly narrowed eyes. “I am not playing a hero!”

“Really?” Melisende tilted her head slightly. “And who is the Nightwatchman, then?”

Marian blinked in surprise. It seemed that Robin had told his wife everything about her and him, and that angered her. She flinched under Melisende’s mocking and piercing gaze.

Marian’s eyes glittered with anger. “Did Robin tell you… everything about us?”

“Ah, well, Robin and I _are_ quite frank with each other,” Melisende declared evenly.

In her distress, Marian didn’t pay attention to the manner in which Melisende talked about Robin – _in the present tense, as if he were alive_. She resisted the urge to tear her gaze from the other woman to conceal her jealousy. She knew that it was stupid to be jealous of the dead man, even if this man was Robin, but she could do nothing with herself. She was also angry at Robin who had opened his heart to Melisende more than he had ever done to Marian, showing his naked soul to his wife instead of his fiancée. Marian didn’t forget what Much and Djaq had told her in Acre – Melisende had become Robin’s confidante and could look into his soul. Why was Robin so frank with his wife when he wasn’t ready to open up to her?

“Don’t we need to go, Lady Melisende?” Marian inquired, her eyes wandering around the chamber and briefly lingering on the body of the unconscious Buckingham.

Melisende smiled cunningly. “Yes, we should leave now. Otherwise, we risk missing a really great performance.” Her smile burst forth with a splendid magnificence as she imagined Prince John’s face at the sight of the back-from-the-the-dead Robin Hood.

Marian arched a brow. “What?”

Melisende assured her, “Everything will be alright now. Soon all these horrors will be over. I swear by God that today will be a good evening for us, and we will win.”

In a few minutes, Melisende and Marian were hastening through the empty hallway. Catherine de Mathefelon followed them, looking out and warning them about the danger.

Marian was surprised that there were no guards there, for usually she was heavily guarded, like one of the most dangerous prisoners in England. “Why are there no guards?”

Melisende laughed sarcastically and responded, “I am the cousin of both King Richard and Prince John. These guards cannot disobey me if I dismiss them.” She stopped and turned to her lady. “Catherine, where is Roger de Lacy? You promised to release him after I had removed the guards.”

Catherine shrugged. “I went to him, but he wasn’t there, my lady.”

“That means that John took de Lacy to the great hall, of course, in the company of many guards, for he is a prisoner.” Melisende stepped forward, but paused, turning to face Marian. “Lady Marian, we have to part our ways here.” She smiled with an ambiguous smile, which might indicate hopes for something mysterious and unfathomable. She pointed her hand at a nearby corridor and instructed, “You will go along this corridor until the very end.  Then go to the alcove and wait there. You won’t lose your way.”

Marian’s eyes revealed confusion. “And what will you do, Lady Melisende?”

Melisende gave a cryptic smile. “I will return to the banqueting hall, where I will spend this evening with John and his courtiers.” She burst into a joyful laughter, and then purred, “Usually, my cousin’s court is a very dull and bleak place, even though he does his best to imitate Aunt Eleanor’s court. But today no man will be exempt from being either too furious or too happy; all heads will snap towards one special guest.”

Marian’s heart was hammering harder, and her mind was drowning in something mysterious. Something was going to happen, and she felt with all her being that it was something important, perhaps life-changing. “What are you planning? Is it something to stop Prince John’s coronation?”

"Of course. Richard is alive, and there will be no coronation,” Melisende asserted.

Marian’s face broke into a large and lovely smile, which was her first sincere smile during the many months filled with misery, pain, and helplessness. The news that the king was alive stirred within his heart a new feeling of hope. “Praise God! Where is our liege now?”

“Lady Marian, we don’t have time to talk.” Melisende looked around, fearful that someone might appear and overhear them. “Go along this corridor to the alcove in the end.”

“What will I find there?” Anxiety gripped Marian’s heart that was beating frantically.

Melisende smiled. “You will meet someone you know. Now go.”

Marian nodded wordlessly, giving the king’s cousin a tiny smile. The two ladies spun around simultaneously and started walking away from one another, with Catherine trailing behind Melisende.

Marian stepped into the semi-darkness of the corridor and kept going straight ahead, her mind whirling in the visions of her two audiences with King Richard in Acre. She was relieved that Richard was alive, for she liked him a great deal and was grateful to him for pardoning Guy. If the king was alive, then Robin Hood’s cause was not futile and not all hope was lost for the people of England.

Guided by the flickering yellow light of the torches, Marian cautiously approached the door at the end of the corridor; she pushed it and stepped forward. She ascended the stone steps to find herself in a spacious and dark room, with what looked like several tunnels branching off from the main area.

“Lady Marian, please follow me,” a male voice requested.

“Who are you?” She felt her body shivering in fear mingled with the excitement of anticipation.

The man let out a laugh. “I am a friend,” he said shortly. “Take my hand. We have to go somewhere else.”

Although she was a little frightened, Marian allowed the man to take her hand in his and lead her through another corridor, dark and gloomy. She couldn’t see his face, but she believed that she had recognized his voice, and she followed him without resistance, her entire body feeling as insubstantial and light as a waft of smoke from the fire. A feeling of freedom was so intoxicating after months of captivity!

They stopped abruptly, and Marian heard the sound of the opening door. The man allowed her to go ahead, into the orange light spreading bright across the chamber they entered. He closed the door and then walked to Marian who stopped in the middle.

Marian stared into Carter’s deep blue eyes. “Carter!” she cried out in exhilarated tones.

“It is good to see you again, Lady Marian,” Carter greeted her with a large smile on his face.

“Marian,” she corrected.

“As you wish.” He didn’t mind being less formal.

Marian was delighted to see one of Robin’s friends. She smiled as widely as she could, as if she wanted to convince Carter with her sunshiny appearance that she was truly happy to see him. “Carter, how did you get here? Who else is here? When did you arrive from the Holy Land?”

Carter chuckled. “Too many questions, my lady.” His tone was mocking.

“How are you feeling now? You were so badly wounded!”

He shrugged. “I was almost fatally wounded, but someone else was wounded worse.”

Marian nodded and swallowed hard. “I know… whom you mean.”

She dropped her head to her chest and gave a little groan, as if she were in pain. In a way, she was really in pain as her heart constricted in her chest at the thought of Robin. Then she raised her eyes and ran them over the room. It was a gloomy and deserted place, with dusty cobwebs in ragged curtains from the high whitewashed ceiling, and a musty smell permeated the air. There was only one torch burning there, and there was not enough light there; Marian and Carter stood in the small, comforting circle of light.

“Do you still think of Robin?” Carter questioned in a cautious manner after a short pause.

His question pulled Marian out of her reverie, and her cheerfulness vanished. “I always think of that terrible day… when he died… His death is a never-healing wound…” Her voice faltered.

“I understand,” he said compassionately.

“Always,” she echoed her last words.

Carter smiled briefly. “It will be alright. Now nobody will cause you any harm.”

“How did you come here? Did Lady Melisende take you here?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Who else is here? What are you planning?” She wanted to know everything.

Carter smiled cordially. “ _Someone very important and dear asked me to take care of you_ ,” he said softly, an amicable smile hovering over his lips; he meant Robin, although Guy had asked him about the same. “Now no more questions. You will know everything in a due time.” There was the closure to the topic.

Marian was desperate to get a more detailed and frank response from Carter, but his serious expression showed her that her questions wouldn’t be answered. A kind of fevered anxiety suffused her at the sight of Carter’s smile that was as enigmatic as Melisende’s smile had been. A veil of mystery enveloped them, and Marian struggled to unravel their secrets. She could feel faint light in the surrounding darkness, and, with some unknown clarity, she knew that something important was going to unfold.

Carter gave her his hand and led her across the chamber. Briefly pausing, he opened another door and motioned her to walk in another room. When they stopped near the balcony, a wave of bright light met them, and Marian glanced down, understanding that they would be using the balcony as a vantage point. Marian gasped at the sight of a huge crowd of the courtiers who had gathered in the banqueting hall.

Marian turned her head to Carter, and her loose dark tresses shimmered in the light. “What are we doing here? What are we going to watch?”

Carter remained quiet for a moment, and Marian caught his gaze that showed a mixture of anxiety and excitement. There was also joy in his eyes, as if he were expecting something marvelous to happen.

“Be patient and watch.” Carter’s lips curled into a smile as he stared down at the crowd.

They kept silent for a long moment, Marian trying to chase away the urge to bombard him with more questions and Carter obviously not wishing to talk more. As she locked her gaze with his, he smiled at her, his lips twitching ever so slightly, as if he were going to say something but stopped himself at the very last moment. As a matter of fact, the most interesting events of the evening were only beginning.

§§§

Standing on the small balcony that was hidden behind a large ancient candelabrum that hung from the ceiling, making the balcony almost invisible for the guests in the banqueting hall, Lady Marian of Knighton watched the great number of nobles who had gathered for the banquet in the Tower of London. There were so many people that it seemed to Marian that nearly all of the English nobles had arrived in London. The hall was overcrowded with the courtiers dressed in their finest clothes of velvet, brocade, and silk, which were lined with expensive and rare furs, exquisite jewelry gleaming on their necks, heads, and arms.

The grand chamber was splendidly illuminated, and light streamed forth on the gilded mouldings and silk hangings; the grand taste of decorations, which had richness, lavishness, elegance, and exquisiteness to boast, shone in their full splendor. The flickering flames of the torches bathed the chamber in a smoky orange hue. The aroma of expensive perfume and human sweat mingled with the smells of roasting mutton, veal, venison, poultry, fish, and wine. There were orange trees in silver tubs to add brilliance to the scene.

The courtiers sat around four long tables that formed a quadrilateral. Every table was covered white damask tapestries and many silver and golden candelabras. The crowd of lavishly dressed courtiers moved inside the great hall and the adjacent chambers, engaged in idle talk, games of billiards, and games of cards.

Marian grimaced, disgusted with the view of such richness and opulence in the great hall, at the time when King Richard had disappeared and many commoners lived in abject poverty, being obliged to pay high taxes to cover Prince John’s enormous expenses. “Prince John has no heart and no soul if he is organizing such lavish entertainments now, when there is complete wreckage in England.”

Carter smiled dolefully. “Prince John has always been particularly fond of lavishness and opulence.” He swept his eyes over the crowd of guests, and his features splashed into a devilish grin. “All the banquets at Prince John’s court are orgies of wickedness, but this banquet is unusual.”

Marian raised a quizzical brow. “Why it is so special?”

“Prince John is going to announce King Richard’s death tonight, but we will ruin his plans very soon.”

“He deserves the worst that might befall him!”

“Yes, he does,” Carter agreed.

“I have never thought that there is such great luxury at court in London.”

“Prince John redecorated the great hall especially for this banquet,” Carter informed.

Marian frowned, confused. “How do you know this if you have returned from Acre only recently?”

“We have our spies,” Carter replied in a dismissive manner, not uncovering the identity of Lady Amicia de Beaumont, who had helped Robin and his friends prepare for today’s feast.

Carter busied Marian with a talk about the recent redecorations in the palace. The great hall was adorned mostly with gold and silver, as well as with gold-embroidered draperies; the room seemed to be mostly golden. Carter told her that John had ordered to have every piece of furniture gilded to make the chamber shimmering. Marian admired the marble mosaics, the gilded ceiling, and magnificent hangings on the walls depicting Zeus subduing other deities; all of these details were added especially for today’s feast.

John had also commanded to bring golden platters, vases of precious metal, several pieces of rosewood carved furniture, ebony cabinets inlaid with gold, gilded baskets, and even gilded perfuming pans. The main table, served for the prince and his closest entourage, was golden beneath dazzling white tapestries, and there were golden platters and bowls set on every table. Prince John’s throne was also made out of gold and was raised on a platform near the main table before which was a balustrade of gold and silver.

It was a grand banquet of unparalleled extravagance, for Prince John was zealous to make it the most memorable event of the last years in the light of his upcoming coronation. John had always tried to make his court in London grander than Queen Eleanor’s court in Poitiers; but today everything was different and, thus, the feast was planned to be more extravagant and more opulent than festivities at the Queen Mother’s court. The prince had invested an unprecedented amount of money into the banquet, for he wished to present himself in his new status – King Richard’s successor.

"All what we see is wrong," Marian affirmed, shaking her head in disbelief. She continued staring down, at the banqueting tables, in shocked awe, her eyes examining each and every detail of the room.

“Of course," Carter replied. “It is an illusion of life.”

“ _I no longer have illusions_ ,” Marian choked back a bitter laugh.

Carter measured her with a look of curiosity and interest, but he chose to not comment on her words. “After the room has been redecorated, the prince called it the golden room,” he jumped to another topic.

Marian turned to face Carter, a tart taste of bitterness rising in her low throat. “This is more than disgusting! This is immoral to spend so much money on nothing when peasants are starving!”

“There is nothing you can do with imperfections of the world,” he said rhetorically, with a note of sadness in his tone. “The England of old times is gone, and nothing will ever be the same.”

She shook her head. “King Richard is alive, and there is hope for a better future. I want to believe that the king comes back and rights the wrongs.”

Carter shrugged. “I thought that you had lost hope for a better future.”

Marian gave Carter an amazed glance. “How do you know that I lost hope?”

He chuckled. “Let’s say I am a good mind reader,” he said gently. “On a serious note, your expression and words just reminded me of _someone who is also very disillusioned_.”

“Whom do you mean?”

Carter’s lips lengthened in a smile. “Oh, soon you will learn that. And he is a one-of-a-kind man.”

In the next moment, however, Marian and Carter re-directed their attention back to the banqueting hall and the courtiers. They heard the sounds of military fanfares that were intended to stimulate the appetite of the guests, which had become an extravagant practice at court during the past few years. The sound of fanfares wasn’t pleasant for many of the guests, but they plastered fake smiles on their faces. Soon stewards began to offer the guests silver trays laden with flowers, fruits, dainties, and other delicacies.

In the next moment, one of the heralds announced the arrival of Prince John in the great hall, and a hush fell over the crowd. The large oak doors opened, and John emerged at the doorway; Lady Amicia de Beaumont was at his left hand, and he was surrounded by his most loyal nobles.

Everyone bowed their heads and ladies curtsied, and Prince John smiled with a satisfied smile at the creeping courtiers. The prince didn’t care whether the courtiers bowed in respect to him or just because they trembled in fear. The only thing he wanted was power and the throne of England.

John looked regal in his crimson brocade doublet, with tie-in sleeves and trimmed with sable on the sleeves and along the neckline; the high collar was jeweled with rubies and diamonds. His straight pants were also of crimson color, lavishly trimmed with diamonds and rubies. The red color of his dashing attire and the trimming with sable underlined his new status – the future King of England.

Standing at John’s left side, Amicia stared coldly at the courtiers, who were greeting and glorifying Prince John. She hated the prince’s court, as well as all his so-called friends and minions. But she had to play her role of one of the mistresses who was entirely devoted to her royal lover; she tolerated this pretense only to be able to spy on John or King Richard.

Steeling herself against a growing feeling of disgust, Amicia leaned closer to Prince John. “My king, you should finally make this announcement. You must become King of England.”

John smiled complacently. “Amicia, you have been with me for so long, when I was dreaming of becoming a king like my father Henry wanted. And finally, I am getting what I deserve!”

Amicia barely suppressed a laugh. “I love you, my king! You will be the greatest king!”

John kissed her hand. “I love you so much, Amicia!”

“This is the hour of your triumph, cousin,” Melisende joined the conversation, smiling slyly. Like Amicia, she struggled to prevent herself from bursting into a sardonic laughter.

Prince John smiled at Melisende. There had been days when he had considered her as his potential grand match. Yet, she was his first cousin on his paternal side, and they were too closely related, which made their marriage impossible. He liked Lady Marian of Knighton, but he didn’t understand why Robin of Locksley was rumored to have been besotted with Marian while being married to Melisende. Marian was beautiful, very beautiful, but she was not nearly as seductive and tempting as Melisende was.

John smiled, his gaze victorious. “My dear Melisende, now even you know that I am better than Richard. I will be crowned soon! I am better than Richard!”

Melisende bowed her head, as if in respect and submission, in reality hiding the laughter in her eyes. “I will eagerly pledge my loyalty to you if you become the rightful King of England.”

“Oh, very soon!” the prince exclaimed.

Prince John stared ahead at the crowd, signaling them to rise from their curtsies and dismissing them from their bows. Using the moment, Amicia turned her gaze at her brother, Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, who stood somber among the guests. She nodded at him slightly, and he nodded back, an exchange which was clear only to them, but was so important for their deal.

Amicia looked at Roger de Lacy, the Baron of Pontefract, who looked as gloomy as the weather outside, expecting to hear the news about King Richard’s death. He spent more than four months in the Tower of London. De Lacy had been out of his mind in the aftermath of Robin’s death in Acre, and he had taken an oath of vengeance against all those who were implicated in Vaisey’s plots against King Richard and, thus, guilty of Robin’s death. He had journeyed to Tickhill, where he had executed the castellan of Tickhill without John’s permission; he was still alive only thanks to John’s deep affection for him.

John sauntered through the chamber towards the main table, and everyone bowed and curtseyed to him. Letting Amicia go, John flashed a triumphal smile and climbed to the platform where his throne stood.

The Black Knights, who stood at both sides from Prince John’s throne, were in elated spirits. The Earl of Spenser grinned maliciously at everyone whom he had met before the banquet, and his grin turned wider as John greeted him with a smile. The Earl of Durham smiled waspishly, winking at Spenser. Sir Jasper of Ashton winked at Spenser and Durham, his expression haughty and totally confident.

Sir Jasper of Ashton inclined his head to the Earl of Spenser. “Lord Spenser, where is Buckingham?”

The Earl of Spenser shrugged. “I have no idea, Lord Ashton.”

“Lord Buckingham went to Lady Marian,” the Earl of Durham interjected.

“Ah, our rebellious bride hasn’t surrendered yet,” Sir Jasper said, smirking.

Spenser scanned the crowd with his eyes. “Where is the Baron of Rotherham?” His voice was tense and worried. “Prince John summoned him to court. He must have already returned to London!”

“Maybe, Rotherham liked Nottingham more than London,” Sir Jasper assumed.

A troubling presentiment entered Durham‘s mind. “I don’t like this.”

Lord Walter Sheridan sighed heavily, a feeling of bad foreboding nesting in his heart. “I don’t know what is happening, but I feel there is something we don’t know.”

The Black Knights were watched by Robin Hood who stood on the hidden balcony overlooking Prince John’s throne, watching the nobles and the prince with a wry grin on his face. Guy of Gisborne was near the hero, his expression similar to Robin’s. Robin and Guy were having the time of their lives, immensely enjoying the situation, excitement overwhelming their hearts.

Nobody in London knew that Robin Hood had stopped the execution of Guy and several other prisoners in Nottingham. Prince John and the Black Knights had no idea that the Baron of Rotherham had been killed by Guy after a long and bloody fight. Lady Isabella of Gisborne had dispatched a messenger to London the next morning after the sensational events in Nottingham, but she hadn’t taken into account that there was someone more cunning – Lady Melisende Plantagenet who had managed to intercept Isabella’s messenger.

Prince John seated himself comfortably in his luxurious throne, his eyes glowing with delight. He had probably never been as happy as he was today. He had long hated Richard and dreamt of his brother’s death, and the moment of his triumph eventually came. Nothing precluded him from declaring Richard officially dead, because very few people knew that the king had been captured in Austria and was locked in the dungeon for more than four months by now. John had paid a huge amount of money to Duke Leopold of Austria to prevent him from announcing Richard’s capture and making a formal request for ransom from the Angevin Empire. Now he was a powerful man – he was about to become king.

John smiled with a satisfied smile. There was nothing and nobody who could have deprived him of his destiny to ascend the throne of England. Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine was kept under a house arrest in Pontefract Castle, Robin Hood was dead, Guy of Gisborne was executed in Nottingham, and life seemed a perfect bliss. All other nobles – even those who were still loyal to Richard – were too frightened to rebel against him. John was victorious in the war with Richard; he was the conqueror of England and the throne.

Life was good, he was blessed, and Gods were at his side, Prince John mused. He lowered his gaze and stared at his hands, the glint of gold on his index finger catching his eye. He pulled the heavy ring from his finger and examined it in the glowing light. A smile of childlike happiness spread across his face, and he laughed aloud, feeling himself the most powerful man in England. He had won, and he was happy!

“Now power belongs to me. Goodbye, Richard,” John whispered to himself. Then he slipped the ring back onto his finger, his heart glowing with amoral delight and hellish satisfaction.

All of a sudden, the prince rose to his feet, his head high, his posture straight and majestic. He raised his hand, signaling that he was going to make a speech. An absolute silence reigned in the chamber, and all eyes were riveted on John.

Prince John theatrically outstretched his arms, as if he were embracing the courtiers. “My precious subjects,” he began in a high and confident voice, his expression neutral; he was an actor by nature and he could easily mask his victorious spirits. “Today we have gathered here because we received ghastly news.” He feigned eternal sadness. “ _Finally, we have learned what happened to our beloved and blessed King Richard on the way back from the Holy Land_.” He paused for an effect, running his eyes over the crowd, looking as if he were about to burst into heartrending sobs. “ _Our king is dead_.”

The guests gasped in horror. Those, who were loyal to King Richard, dropped their heads in respect to the presumably deceased monarch, their hearts possessed by sincere grief; many of them crossed themselves. The nobles loyal to Prince John feigned sadness and were silent, waiting for the prince to speak.

“Holy Mother of God!” Lady Isabelle de Claire, the Countess of Pembroke, cried out. She was very pale, in shock, shaking her head in disbelief. “Poor King Richard!”

William Marshal, the Earl of Pembroke, doubted the fact of the king’s death. “How strange,” he said shortly, his eyes darting between Prince John and the group of his favorites.

“King Richard was a great man and king. May he rest in peace,” someone in the crowd said.

“It is an awful loss for England,” another nobleman commented sorrowfully.

Prince John raised his hand to silence the crowd. “The death of our beloved and heroic King Richard is a great loss for England and for the nation! We admired his intelligence, honor, the nobility of heart, bravery, valor in battle, and heroism! He was the best warrior in Christendom! He was a great king and a great man!” He trailed off for a moment and rubbed his eyes, as if he were brushing away his tears. “We will never forget him! We will cherish his memory forever!” He lapsed into silence, his expression transforming into grief again. “I will forever be in mourning for my dearest brother, may his noble soul rest in peace.”

“The king is dead – Long live the king!” Sheridan proclaimed, his mouth twisting in a dark smile.

“The king is dead – Long live the king!” the crowd echoed, although many voices were quiet and hollow.

“Long live King John!” Amicia cried out. Although the words repelled her, she forced herself to speak, knowing that it was exactly what John expected to hear from her, his beloved mistress.

“Long live King John!” most of the courtiers said in chorus.

From the lonely, well-hidden balcony on the upper floor of the Tower, Robin of Locksley heard and watched the scene of Prince John’s announcement with eyes flashing with an inextinguishable hatred. He cursed under his breath, even though it did nothing to alleviate the fury coursing through him. “Prince John and his treacherous gang will pay for all of their crimes,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I will bring the king home even if I have to die again and then come back from the dead.”

Guy of Gisborne, who was sitting on the floor, glanced at Robin in bewilderment, his eyes dancing with amusement. “This is the fourth time in my life when I see the great Robin Hood so angry,” he commented.

Robin seated himself on the floor, glaring at Guy. “What do you want to say, Gisborne?”

“A statement of fact,” Guy said with equanimity, although his lips curved in a lethally sweet smile. “I saw you so angry only thrice. Once you were angry when you… found the black wolf’s head tattoo on my forearm. And then you were so angry in our two battles near a cave and on the Great North Road.”

Robin shot him a fulminating look. “Shut up!”

“Calm down, Locksley,” Guy said quietly, struggling to ward off the urge to shake Robin. “I am not going to taunt you, like you regularly do for your pleasure. I just want to understand why you are furious.”

"What difference will it make if I reply?” a still-fuming Robin questioned.

"I just don’t understand the reason for your overheated emotions. You have long known that John wants Richard dead. Why are you so angry when you hear John speak these things?”

Robin took a deep breath. “Everything is different now.” He swallowed hard and tried to get a hold of his emotions. Yet, as he spoke, his voice had a tinge of anger. “When I learned about the existence of the Black Knights, I didn’t know the truth… about my relationship with Richard.” He sighed. “Now I know the secret, and I feel increasingly uncomfortable because I have to be between Richard and John.”

Guy inclined his head slowly, his expression serious. “I understand your feelings. Although I never cared for Richard and tried to kill him twice, I was deeply affected by the revelation.”

Robin’s curious gaze was searching for something in the other man’s countenance. He asked directly, “If you had known the truth before your second voyage to Acre, would you have attempted regicide?”

Guy emitted a heavy sigh, and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.” And it was true: he didn’t know how he would have acted if he had learned the truth about his birth and Robin’s true parentage earlier.

Robin didn’t respond; he climbed to his feet and looked down at Prince John. He drew his bow and prepared several arrows, his mind inventing the pictures of killing John for everything the usurper had done to King Richard – his sovereign, his friend, and his half-brother. His heart ached for Richard, whose fate he imagined in various scenarios – imprisoned, abducted, confined to a damp cell, starving to death, and possibly already killed. The fact that the king had been taken captive grievously wounded Robin’s heart. He hadn’t been with his liege in Austria! He blamed himself for not saving the king from his foes, the mission of his whole life since he had turned eighteen. He had to find Richard and save the king.

Robin sighed, thinking that he was too emotionally caught up in the battle for the throne between his two half-brothers, and that saddened him very much. And although he had been disillusioned by war and death, he still didn’t understand how one brother may wish another brother dead.

Robin pulled his gaze from John and regarded the Black Knights with frigid eyes, who stood near Prince John’s throne. He hated these treacherous men, who were ready to drop to their knees before John in their guileful quest for power and status. They all were murderers and traitors, and Robin wanted them all at his mercy to do with them as he chose. And he wished one thing: to build the gallows right outside the White Tower and have every traitor executed in front of a bloodthirsty crowd of townspeople and courtiers.

Robin curbed his rage, getting control over his emotions and feeling ready for a great performance which he had planned assiduously. “Gisborne, look out while I will talk to John.”

Guy nodded. “I will. No worries, Locksley.”

Grabbing his bow and several arrows, Robin leaned ahead to be better positioned for observation. Although he had designed the plan in advance and had written several short speeches for the prince, he was still nervous, mostly because he was going to face John, whom he loathed but who was his half-brother, like Richard. His heart was beating so fiercely in his chest that he thought it might burst; his breathing was agitated, and his eyes glittered. He hoped and prayed that nothing would go wrong tonight.

§§§

There was a sinister silence in the great hall. Every pair of eyes was at Prince John.

Prince John raised his hand, motioning everyone to keep silence. “My precious subjects,” he began, his expression disconsolate, “I have been driven mad by grief since I received the news about Richard’s death. I still cannot believe that my beloved brother is in Heaven, may his soul rest in peace.” He trailed off, sighing deeply; then he crossed himself. “But although I am in mourning for my brother, I cannot allow myself to forget England’s interests in my grief because now it is my time to become King of England.”

John scanned the crowd, wondering where his loyal Buckingham was. Not finding his most beloved favorite, John turned his gaze at Lord Sheridan; he nodded at him, signaling to proceed.

Sheridan cleared his throat to drive everyone’s attention to himself. “Honorable and respectable lords and ladies,” he began in an official, yet pompous manner, “as the fact of King Richard’s death has been established, we are going to schedule Prince John’s coronation, which is an urgent matter of national importance. The country cannot be in anarchy, without the rightful king, and it is our duty to have King John I of England crowned not later than the end of next week.”

Prince John outstretched his arms, imitating an embrace of his subjects. “My subjects, I love all of you, and I will do my best to be a fair and wise ruler of our great kingdom,” he said pompously. “Pledge your allegiance to me, love me and serve me, and I will love you in return.”

The nobles were more silent than they ought to be. Few of them were surprised that Prince John ignored the fact that King Richard had nominated Prince Arthur, the Duke of Brittany, his heir before his departure to the Holy Land. If anyone objected to John’s decision to have himself crowned regardless of his brother’s resolution, they hadn’t voiced their thoughts.

Suddenly, two white-feathered arrows whizzed in the air, pinning Prince John’s mantle to the throne. Then another arrow embedded itself into the back of the throne just an inch above John’s head.

The prince raised his eyes and stared at the arrow that could have easily split his skull if the archer’s aim had been less deadly. He looked around, his eyes wild and terrified. “What is going on? Who is attacking the King of England?” he screamed, his face panic-stricken. “This is a regicide attempt on my life!”

“Guards! Guards! The king has been attacked!” Sheridan shouted.

A large, mischievous smile graced Robin's handsome features. “Once I shouted a similar warning about the Saracen attack on the king’s camp. Yet, it was not the Saracen attack – it was the raid organized by several traitors from England,” he said in a high voice, steady and firm despite the emotional turmoil in his heart. “I saved King Richard’s life that night, but I was severely wounded and barely survived.”

A deathlike silence descended upon the banqueting hall. Prince John looked bewildered, frowning at Lord Sheridan. Every pair of eyes was searching for the source of the voice, but everyone failed to find it.

Prince John questioned wrathfully, “How dare you attack me and speak without my permission?” He raised his voice, looking around but finding nothing in a sea of guests. “Who is speaking? Who are you?”

Lord Sheridan looked at Prince John, but then he glanced away. He recognized the unknown voice immediately, and his blood ran cold. He couldn’t believe that Robin of Locksley was alive.

“Oh,” Guy breathed. As Robin began speaking about the Saracen attack, Guy hung his head in shame. A pang of guilt passed through him, and he found himself feeling more wretched than he had felt since his meeting with the king in Acre.

“Stop it,” Robin whispered to Guy, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I cannot,” Guy said quietly, and his guilt-filled voice was an admission of guilt and shame.

Prince John looked angry, his eyes fierce and rather savage. “Who are you? Introduce yourself! You are talking to the rightful King of England.”

Lord Sheridan stood solemn, his daze flickering between Prince John and Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester. Robert’s expression was impassive, but the mischievous glint in his pale green eyes confirmed his suspicions. Robin was back from the dead, but so far Sheridan was one of the very few people who had come to the right conclusion. As his gaze fell on Roger de Lacy and his eyes registered de Lacy’s haunted gaze, Sheridan knew that the young man had recognized the voice as well.

Marian shook her head in shock; she had already recognized the voice. Her mind was whirling in a million different directions at once, and the images of her moments with Robin were replaying in her head. Every nerve in her body tingled with awareness, every fiber of her body was suddenly alive, and her heart was pumping hard. She felt her chest tightening up, threatening to stifle her, and she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t be mistaken whose voice spoke to them – it was Robin’s voice.

Lady Melisende Plantagenet looked as mysterious as she had looked an hour ago, when she had saved Marian from the Earl of Buckingham. A thought struck Marian that Melisende’s overconfidence and strange smile could mean something extremely important, but it would have been too difficult to explain that, for there was always an enigmatic and unfathomable air about Robin’s wife.

Marian’s sapphire eyes filled with tears. “It is impossible…” Her voice was tremulous.

Carter smiled light-heartedly. “Listen to the voice, Marian.”

Marian glanced around the room, but didn’t see whom she wanted. There was no Robin, and her mind re-focused on the well-known fact – Robin was dead. “This must be his ghost,” she murmured to herself, her heart breaking into many small pieces again, like it happened when Robin had been murdered.

“Ghosts cannot talk,” Carter pointed out, and she could feel a smile in his voice. “Just listen.”

“Alright.” Marian nodded, her eyes again searching for the speaker, but she saw no one. She turned a little pale and again said to herself that it must be a ghost.

In just a sudden moment, like a flash of the lightning in the sky, the voice began speaking again. “Once we were attacked by a large army of Saracen mercenaries in the middle of the night. I still remember the camp filled with dark shadows of our enemies who ran inside tents and killed my sleeping comrades.” The voice was as hard as granite, but after a short pause, it turned harder than steel. “But it was not the Saracen massacre because those mercenaries were hired by _someone from England_.”

“Show yourself!” Prince John roared in rage.

Someone let out a choked giggle. "Once I had to kill in an honorable duel the despicable traitor, a famous Norman nobleman, who wished to assassinate King Richard by hiring the Hashashin." The voice paused, and then someone laughed with a ringing laugh; there was something in this laugh that made everyone shudder. "There is something else: someone did something very vile once again. Finally, someone from England traveled to Acre and tried to assassinate King Richard again, but they were stopped, although I… had to die to save our liege." With the suddenness of a thunderbolt, the voice ceased speaking, and someone gave a dark laugh that the devil itself would run from. "It would have been quite entertaining, if it wasn't so sad."

Suddenly, another voice resonated in the air, deeper and more solemn. It was Guy’s voice. “In the end, I killed the man who was responsible for planning and organizing many regicide attempts on King Richard’s life and who murdered many innocents in his quest for power.” A brief pause followed while Guy was collecting his thoughts; he was unnerved by the situation because it was a very emotional moment for him. If it wasn’t Robin’s insane half-a-plan, Guy would have never thought of making such dramatic declarations. “But it seems that this man could have survived the stab wound I inflicted on him in a fair fight.”

“The second voice,” John muttered to himself, looking baffled.

Marian shuddered, her heart racing like she had just finished running a marathon. She had recognized the second voice without difficulty. A shock of surprise shot through her at the realization that Guy could be alive and seemed to be somewhere close. Her mind was in a daze covered in a thick mist of confusion and pain, and her conflicted emotions were draining her dry. She couldn’t comprehend how the two men, who had reconciled on Robin’s deathbed in Imuiz, could be together in the same room.

The second voiced resumed speaking. “I killed this evil man for King Richard, for England, and for every innocent life he had taken and ruined.” Guy presented Robin with a pearly white smile that seemed a little too much like a smirk. “And even if he survived, he must stand trial for the crimes he committed against King Richard and England.” It was hypocritical to say that about Vaisey when he himself had sided with the man for so long, but Robin had insisted that Guy must have spoken in this manner.

“Cowards! Where are you?” Prince John’s eyes wandered around the crowd, as if he were trying to find the troublemaker who had ruined his feast. “Introduce yourself to your liege lord!”

Robin’s blood boiled in red-hot anger. He made an effort to smooth away his anger, but it was still there in his voice when he spoke. “I believe that we haven’t met one another for a long time, _my prince_.” He let out a laugh. “Last time, we met on King Richard’s coronation when you swore your fealty to our king!”

“I am my brother’s successor! Richard is dead!” the prince shrilled at the top of his lungs. “How dare you disrespect the rightful King of England! You will pay for your actions!”

Robin and Guy laughed together, their laughter joyful, natural, light, and carefree, coming from deep inside themselves. It was one of the first moments in their lives when Robin and Guy were on the same page, both of them immensely enjoying the humiliation they were causing to Prince John. Guy thought that Robin’s foolhardiness and boldness were crazy in a good way. And yet, as beautiful and bold and outrageous all of Robin’s half-plans were, Guy had a firm conviction, unpleasant for him, that he was not really smart and audacious enough to pull such a thing off. He would make a mess of it somehow without Robin, and so he would have never done anything like this alone.

“I beg your pardon, Prince John, but the news of _King Richard’s supposed death_ seem to have caused you so much pain that your grief clouded your mind,” Guy continued passionately. “There is no rightful King of England in this chamber. You are not king – you are only Prince John.”

“My brother is dead, and I have inherited the throne,” John insisted.

Robin grinned sheepishly, regretting that nobody was able to see him at the moment; but it was early to appear before the audience. “Last time I checked King Richard was King of England,” he promulgated, his voice light and casual, as if he were talking about the most trivial things. “And there is no King John I of England – there is only King Richard I of England the Lionheart!”

John paled, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Rage bubbled inside of him like hot lava in a volcano, thick and searing, and that rage pushed him to continue the resistance. Feeling as though the spoken words had stabbed him in the heart, he bellowed, “You are a traitor to England and to your king – King John of England! You will stand a trial, and you will be executed for high treason!”

“I am a traitor, hmm?” This time, Robin’s voice sounded muffled, as if he were speaking through a closed door. Robin lowered his voice as emotions overwhelmed him, and he could no longer hold them back: he hated and despised John Plantagenet with his entire being, more than ever before. “Many times, I risked my life for King Richard. I nearly died for my liege in the Saracen attack, and it seems that last time… in Acre, I really died and was dead for some time.” The voice was suddenly suffused with anguish and pain. “I am extremely astonished that I am still alive. Last time, the call was… pretty close.”

Prince John blanched exceedingly, his lips turning nearly bloodless. “No, don’t say anything…” He raised a brow, glaring at Lord Sheridan. “How can it be real? Is it a foul play?” He looked scared, like a man who saw his lone chance to usurp the crown about to disappear.

Sheridan gave a slow nod. “It must be him.”

Standing on the balcony, Marian was turning her head here and there, trying to discover where the back-from-the-dead Robin Hood was. Carter’s hand that gripped her forearm was the only thing that kept her from casting caution aside and attempting to go find the man whose death had nearly squelched her world. Robin was alive and he was there. She coveted, with all her being, to catch at least a glimpse of the resurrected archer and to see his charming smile again.

Marian stared at Carter, her eyes revealing a mixture of emotions – pain, anguish, hope, amazement, and happiness, maybe even a bit of fear as well. “Carter, it is Robin! It is him!”

Carter was filled with a pure joy, like a bubbling spring of light and energy. “Yes, _it is our Robin_!”

Tears of happiness filled her eyes. “Oh my God,” she gasped. She brushed the tears from her lashes with the back of her hand. “They are both here… But how can it be true?”

It was the first time when Carter felt uncomfortable in Marians’ presence. “Have you finally realized whom you want, Marian?” His voice was spleenful. “What hair color do you like more – sandy or raven?”

Marian leaned over the balcony, peering down at the prince and his guests. “Carter, does it really matter now?” She placed a friendly hand on his arm. “But sandy color means something… very special to me.”

She touched the sapphire brooch fastened to the collar of her gown. It was the brooch that Robin had given her during their first courtship before his departure to the Crusade. Before his death in Acre, he had handed the brooch to King Richard, asking him to pass it to Marian, which had been done by Melisende. Marian no longer wore any rings and other jewelry items, excluding this brooch.

Carter gave her a compassionate look. “The sandy-haired man is… unique and very, very, very dear.”

Marian smiled with a festive smile, caressing the brooch on her collar, as if she were caressing it. She was overwhelmed with happiness and delight, as if some magical flowers were blooming in her heart. “We… didn’t find Robin’s body, but he saw him die! How did he survive his wound that seemed mortal?”

“Later,” Carter closed the topic.

Carter and Marian diverted their gazes from one another to Prince John and heard the furious man demand harshly. “If you are not a traitor, then come here and show us your face.”

“With great pleasure, _my prince_ ,” the first voice spoke, his intonation amicable and yet challenging.

In the next moment, the slender male figure appeared on the balcony located on the opposite side of the great hall and facing the throne. Robin was dressed like a courtier, wearing dark green trousers and brocade doublet of the same color, its high collar jeweled with emeralds and diamonds. His hands were playing with the string of his Saracen recurved bow; a golden scimitar sheathed in a golden scabbard hung at his waist.

Looking like a seasoned courtier, arrogant, elegant, and a bit bored, in his expensive and stylish court outfit, Robin of Locksley swept his eyes over the prince and the guests, a lazy smile playing on his mouth. He tossed his head of wheat color, and a few strands of his hair fell alluringly over his forehead, stressing his youthful and expressive handsome features. As he smiled with his most charming smile, and the world went still and everyone surrendered to bewitchment, every pair of eyes was attached to Robin.

The courtiers were absolutely silent. Prince John looked like a ghost of himself, his fingers nervously clutching his jeweled collar. Sheridan sighed heavily, looking at the young man who had become his enemy and whom he had trained years ago, but he discovered that he felt nothing, if not a slight regret – he was loyal to Prince John after King Richard had sent him home to preserve the crown.

Robin raised his eyes, and his gaze locked with Marian’s. He inhaled and exhaled, feeling the deep ache in his heart which his separation from Marian had left in him. She was very beautiful, like an angelic face of an Italian painting, and for an instant, he was entranced by the serene smile she gave him. He noticed that Marian had changed – there were traces of deep grief and heartache on her tired face and her eyes were full of infinite sadness. His heart sank with grief, aching for Marian who suffered so much due to his death.

Nobody spoke and moved. Every second that strange, sinister silence was becoming more unbearable. At last, Robin’s loud voice spoke, with a certain hard directness and a hint of mockery in every word.

Robin made a low, mocking bow. “I am glad to be here today. You don’t have to tell me how much I was missed in England – I know this,” he stated with devilish confidence, grinning at the audience.

Roger de Lacy called his friend happily, “Robin! Robin! Robin!” He flashed a brilliant smile for the first time in many months since Robin had died and he had been arrested. “I mourned for you, Robin!”

Robin saluted his friend. “Mourning is over! I prefer mischief over mourning!” Everyone could sense an air of cockiness and self-importance in his voice.

Many courtiers laughed and smiled at Robin’s statement. They remembered the Robin of Locksley of old times, considering him a young mischief-maker and troublemaker, but loving his charismatic, outspoken personality and his light, overpowering charm. Robin’s manners, unorthodox for a nobleman, had earned him quite a great fame at court in Aquitaine, and many tales traveled to England as well.

“Lord Huntingdon, welcome home!” Lady Isabelle de Claire exclaimed; William Marshal smiled.

Robin bowed again, and the courtiers began gossiping and whispering. Many of them noticed that Robin looked too slim, slimmer than he had been in the past, and he was very pale; they attributed that to Robin’s wound, which must have been grave as he had been presumed dead for many months. Yet, the Earl of Huntingdon, though being handsome and full of life and energy, certainly changed in subtle ways: there was something guarded and unapproachable in his face, and his eyes revealed a cold, almost ruthless glint.

The crowd parted to give the way for Lady Melisende Plantagenet, who stood staring at Robin, her beauty blossoming like a rare flower, her skin glowing like translucent pearls. Everyone knew that she had recently birthed Robin’s son, Richard Fitzooth of Locksley, who was Robin’s heir until his father’s miraculous return. The courtiers smiled at the lady who had her husband back and was obviously in a festivous mood.

Prince John stared at Robin, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, he can’t be here. I am hallucinating.”

Lord Sheridan had already released the prince from the arrow trap – John had been pinned to the throne by Robin’s arrows. Now the prince could move and gesticulate, although he preferred to seat in his throne.

“Lord Vaisey killed him… He plunged… Hood’s scimitar into his stomach,” the Earl of Spenser stammered.

“Well, Hood is alive and looks quite healthy, although he is very thin,” the Earl of Durham observed. 

The Earl of Buckingham appeared near Spenser and Durham. When he had regained his consciousness in Marian’s apartments and hadn’t seen her there, he had run to the banqueting hall. He had awakened earlier than Melisende and Marian thought he would. “Hood is alive,” he spat. “But Lord Vaisey assured us that he had murdered him and that it was a mortal wound.”

The prince’s face grew ominous and brooding. “Vaisey _is_ a fool. He is an utter fool.”

Sheridan stared at John in horror, his face confused. “Vaisey… he… he…”

Their conversation was interrupted by Robin who started a new cheeky speech. “Are you _surprised_ , my friends? Or maybe _amazed_? Or perhaps _shocked_? What term describes your feelings better?” Marian must have remembered their first personal conversation after his return, when she had approached him in the corridor after the Council of Nobles, Robin mused. His last provocative speech resembled the verbal banter they had that day. Did she remembered it, he asked himself? His mind reverted to his mission, and he remembered where he was. Grinning daringly, his eyes twinkling, he went on. “People often say that Robin Hood can walk through walls. What do you think of this?”

Standing on the balcony close to Carter, Marian felt her heart leap like that of a frisky gazelle, and a strong, delicious feeling of wistfulness mingled with great pride swept through her in a warm flood. Of course, she could recall every word of her first private encounter with Robin after his return! She was delighted that he remembered it as well, and this knowledge made her wonder what feelings he harbored for her. It was selfish and arrogant of her to dream that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t forget her despite his marriage to Melisende. Carter took notice of her dreamy expression, convinced that she was awash with nostalgia and thinking of Robin.

Sitting on the floor and watching Robin who was leaning on the parapet of the balcony, Guy tried to gauge the younger man’s thoughts; it was early for his appearance yet, and he waited patiently. He caught a momentary flash of some deep emotion on Robin’s otherwise blank face – blank in all ways, except for his taunting grins and smiles. Was Robin thinking of Marian? Was there a place for her in Robin’s heart? Did Robin still love Marian? Then Guy looked vacantly into the emptiness, and his mind floated to Marian as he asked himself silently whether she still loved Robin or not.

“No, no, no,” Prince John groaned, his face completely stupefied.

“Damn Locksley,” Sheridan cursed. “He has always been too shrewd and too sly, and too fun-loving.”

Robin shot two arrows, which embedded themselves in the carpet near Sheridan’s feet. “Lord Sheridan, I thought that you loved my mischief. When we were in Acre, my humor entertained you quite a lot.”

Sheridan scowled. “You are an annoying troublemaker, Robin of Locksley!”

Robin threw his head back and laughed so loud that the guests thought that the ceiling would tumble down around them. “I have been courting trouble and producing mischief since childhood.”

Prince John shook his head, still unable to believe in Robin’s resurrection. “You must be dead, Hood.”

“Many times over, _my prince_ ,” Robin retorted trenchantly. He used the taunt that he often threw at his adversaries when he appeared out of the blue and ruined their plans.

“What do you want?” John asked in an envenomed voice, feeling rage course through his veins.

Robin smiled cockily. “I have a very important message for Prince John and all the nobles of England,” he answered, his voice emphasizing each word. “I apologize that you had to wait for my arrival in England for so long, but my journey had a complicated route.” A grin flourished across his face. “On the way from Acre, I had to visit Austria, where I met with our most gracious, brave, and beloved King Richard.” It was not true that Robin had seen Richard, but this small deceit was a part of his plan.

Robin’s declaration drew a gasp of amazement and surprise from the shocked crowd.

“No! No! No! It is a wretched lie! You are lying–” Prince John broke off, blinking, his voice cracking with the strain. He knew what Robin would say next, and a look of understanding dawned on his face; he clenched his fists, struggling to erase a look of awareness from his face. “My brother is dead! He is dead!”

“King Richard is alive!” Robert de Beaumont shouted from the crowd. “He is not dead!”

“God save King Richard!” Roger de Lacy proclaimed gleefully as he crossed himself.

“Long live King Richard!” the second voice – Guy’s voice – boomed; Guy found himself astounded with his own words, for it was still unusual to fight for King Richard and at Robin Hood’s side.

“God save King Richard! Long live King Richard!” many nobles echoed. They were those who hadn’t changed their allegiances during the king’s absence and rejoined in the news of his survival.

Prince John had nothing to say on the matter. His plans were destroyed by Robin Hood. Vaisey had been so pleased with his outstanding achievement in Imuiz, boasting that he had impaled the legendary hero on Robin’s own scimitar. Now the prince couldn’t help but laugh as he imagined how Vaisey would have looked like if the evil man was one of the guests on today’s feast – Vaisey’s expression would have been the one of utter shock and ferocious hatred. The prince himself hated Robin with a deep passion, although sometimes, in the depths of his heart, he felt that he had an outlandish affection for the people’s hero.

“I myself will kill you, Robin Hood,” John murmured. He growled out a low, deep laugh of bitterness, and hissed, “You will pay to me for everything.”

“God save us, not King Richard,” the Earl of Buckingham muttered to himself.

“Robin Hood is the worst nightmare of our lives,” the Earl of Durham surmised.

Sir Jasper looked disgruntled. “It is a huge pity that Huntingdon didn’t die.”

The Earl of Spenser drew his hand through his hair. With a nervous movement of genuine alarm, he pointed at the balcony where Robin stood. “Hood will be the death of us.”

“I will deal with Huntingdon or Hood, whatever he is called, today,” Prince John took an oath.

The Black Knights smiled at their patron, knowing that Prince John was not the man he appeared to be at first glance. John was more cunning, more intelligent, and smarter than he seemed. His main weapon was his craft and cunning and the Machiavellian subtlety of his plans and operations, which were superior even to Vaisey’s cunning. John earned himself the disrespectful title of _John Softsword_ as his lavish courtly lifestyle contrasted with that of his brother Richard; in reality, John was a much more skilled swordsman than many other noblemen were. He didn’t show his real nature or displayed only some layers of his real personality, and that was his most important secret weapon in his battle for the throne with Richard.

But Robin didn’t finish his speeches on today’s banquet. There was something else that he needed to announce in front of Prince John, the Black Knights, and other lords and ladies. He was planning to play a sophisticated cat-and-mouse game with John and Vaisey, which would help him corner the prince and lure the presumably dead sheriff from shadows. Nothing was impossible – everything was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter where Robin and Guy face Prince John and the Black Knights. 
> 
> I confess that it is one of my favorite chapters in this story/novel for many reasons, mainly because it is the first mission which Robin and Guy accomplish together. It is Robin’s daring and a little insane half-a-plan to confront Prince John in public, on the feast where the prince announces the death of King Richard. Robin is the first voice, and he begins the grand performance on the feast. Guy also plays an important role in this performance as he, too, speaks to John and the audience – he is the second voice. 
> 
> The performance in the Tower was prepared by both Robin and Melisende. Without Melisende and Amicia de Beaumont, Robin, Guy, and others wouldn’t have been able to come to the palace unseen. Perhaps you wonder what Melisende and Catherine were talking about. What parchment Melisende’s spies found in Nottingham?  
> You will get the answer in one of the next chapters. A spoiler: Robin will indeed burn this document to ashes, but it is a very dramatic twist.
> 
> The spectacle is not over! Robin has another half-a-plan! Robin is intending to play a cat-and-mouse game with Prince John and Vaisey; he doesn’t believe that Vaisey is dead and wants to lure the man from his hiding. In the next chapter, Robin will continue his grand theatrical speeches, and Guy will make an appearance before the prince and others. Robin and Guy are going to become allies officially, standing shoulder to shoulder before their enemies. Chapter 6 is a celebration for fans of Robin and Guy’s alliance.
> 
> Guy begins to appreciate Robin’s dry humor and sarcasm; he is also impressed by Robin’s boldness and foolhardiness. I think that in canon Guy and Vaisey were impressed by Robin’s outrageous plans and tricks. I have Guy acknowledge, only to himself, that he would have never done anything as outrageous and unusual as like Robin does because it is in character for the canonical Guy who is a follower, not a leader, and who is not as smart, bold, and creative like Robin – sorry, Guy fans, but it is canon.
> 
> Marian is saved from the Earl of Buckingham by Melisende Plantagenet. I am sorry that Marian was beaten, but I believe that she behaved very boldly and fearlessly like the canonical Marian would have done. I never planned to have Marian raped by Buckingham, who is a nasty piece of work and will continue backstabbing and plotting. Don’t worry – Marian won’t be forced into a marriage to Buckingham, but you will have to wait to understand who she will end up with. Keep in mind that Robin is a married man and he has a son, and he is currently not available for Marian and any other woman. 
> 
> I hope that you liked Marian and Melisende’s conversation. There is quite a lot of tension between them because they are both connected with Robin, and they both feel uneasy in each other’s presence. I promise that there will be an important shift – a friendly shift – in their relationship. There will be several more interactions between these two women and Megan in the coming chapters.
> 
> I took a liberty in the descriptions of the Tower and the great hall. Of course, there can be no “golden rooms” in the Tower in the 12th century. The show had quite many historical anachronisms, and I don’t think that my additions worsened the situation – I think that they made the chapter more interesting.


	6. The Apogee of Confrontation

**Chapter 6**

**The Apogee of Confrontation**

Robin swept his eyes around, canting his neck slightly, as he examined the interior of the golden room that Prince John had ordered to refurbish for today’s feast. Like Marian, he was appalled to see the gilded ceiling and gilded candelabras, furniture, and so many other gilded things. At the thought of how much money the prince had spent on the refurbishment of the chamber, red-hot anger burned in his blood: John overtaxed the peasantry, and that made Robin despise the prince more than ever before.

“You cannot imagine how much money was spent on the new interior of this chamber,” Robin told Guy quietly. “My wife told me the numbers, and I have to say that I was shocked.”

Guy choked back a laugh; he was still sitting on the floor, waiting for his time to appear. “You do really surprise me, Locksley! Don’t you know that Prince John bathes in luxury while others die from hunger?”

“I know,” Robin whispered, his hands clenched in fists. “Wait for your entrance. Go along with my plan.”

Guy nodded in agreement. “Of course.”

“Long live King Richard!” Robin promulgated, and the nobles repeated his words.

In a minute, the echoes of their voices died away slowly in the chamber, and in an intense silence that followed. Robin turned to look at Marian standing at another balcony. He noticed that her face was pale, understanding she still was deeply affected by his resurrection. Yet, Marian was smiling – her smile was radiant and happy, and it was the same breathtaking smile that always bewitched Robin.

“Can you see Marian?” Guy asked quietly.

“Of course, I can,” Robin answered significantly.

Robin’s voice had a note of adoration in itself, and that was quite in harmony with the day and the scene of his theatrical resurrection. Guy clearly distinguished that note, realizing that Robin had lied to him – the hero still had feelings for Marian. Yet, the discovery – or rather an assumption – didn’t make Guy angry because he no longer blamed Robin for the lingering love his ex-foe was still feeling for his ex-wife.

Guy blurted out, “I suppose you are enjoying looking at her.”

Guy’s statement returned Robin to reality. He looked Gisborne with an expression of boredom, and then averted his eyes, searching for his wife among the guests. The shadows of the past were weaving a seemingly eternal web around him, but he swore that he would try to escape from them, although he honestly didn’t know the right route to escape. And then he found Melisende and his wife flashed him a dazzling smile, all Robin felt was happiness, delight, calm, and peace, as if he were living in a world of men and troubles. In his relationship with Melisende, Robin had what he never had with Marian – peace. He needed Melisende more than he needed Marian because he needed peace.

Lady Melisende Plantagenet stared up at Robin; as her gaze locked with his, he winked at her. “Robin, tell us what happened to my beloved cousin Richard,” she requested in a high voice, so high that it pitched in the ears of every guest. “Richard’s subjects must know why their king hasn’t returned home yet.”

Robin gave a nod, his face alight with gladness. Melisende and he had developed an excellent and cunning plan when they had met in Bordeaux, and then Robin had formed his own half-a-plan – he resolved to deliver the victorious strike to Vaisey and Prince John on today’s banquet. “King Richard has been taken captive by Duke Leopold V of Austria,” he proclaimed, his gaze fixed firmly on John’s face. “The king told me a long story about his adventures on the way home.  Bad weather forced him to land at Corfu. Disguised as a Knight Templar, he sailed from Corfu with four attendants, but his ship was wrecked near Aquileia, forcing him to take a dangerous land route through central Europe.”

Robert de Beaumont came closer to Prince John’s throne. As he stopped, he swept his eyes over the guests, a triumphal grin on his face. “Robin and I met King Richard together, and we both know the whole story,” he began, looking between Robin and the prince. “Unfortunately, our king was captured near Vienna by Leopold of Austria, a vile man who has no honor and shame.”

John gaped, his eyes widened, for he failed to understand how they had managed to learn so much about the plan of Vaisey and Buckingham related to Richard’s capture. He didn’t know whether Robin and Robert had indeed seen Richard, but the two men surely knew a great deal about the king. If he had a sword in his hand, he would have slashed the throats of King Richard’s two grand favorites without any hesitation.

Suddenly, the raven-haired handsome man dressed in black leather doublet and black leather pants appeared on the balcony where Robin stood. His appearance drew a gasp of shock from the courtiers, who immediately recognized Guy of Gisborne in the newcomer. They had heard that Guy had been executed for the murder of Robin Hood, and his appearance at Robin’s side surprised them beyond measure.

Guy turned his gaze to the balcony where Marian stood with Carter. “Marian,” he whispered to himself.

There was a look of an idyllic loveliness on Marian’s face, and she gave Guy a wide smile. Guy realized that she was very happy with the turn of events: Robin and he were alive and were together, which symbolized their new alliance, exactly what Marian wished and had persuaded him to do. Guy was very delighted to see her alive, but he was surprised that there was no old anxiety and urgent need to see and touch her, which he explained by the too-active concentration of his mind on Prince John.

“You are a strange man, Gisborne,” Guy heard Robin whisper. “You seemed to care for Lady Megan in Nottingham.”

Guy turned to Robin. “I do care for Meg.”

The image of Megan’s face flashed in Guy’s mind, and something like a combination of tireless, sensuous anxiety and exalted tenderness filled his heart. The visions of their days during their imprisonment flashed in his mind, and he thought of how well they had understood each other and developed a cordial friendship, together waiting to embrace their death. They had few secrets and confided in each other their most secret thoughts. Megan was a clever and devoted companion, and he missed her a lot.

“Be ready,” Robin whispered. “I don’t want you to fail our plan.”

Someone smiled at Guy, but the majority of the guests were rendered in a state of complete shock. Maybe it was too much to see both Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne coming back from the dead on the same day, in the same place, and almost at the same moment. Slowly, their minds centered upon Guy, and they studied him closely, their faces giving evidence of the gradual and curious change from shock to amazement. They noticed that Guy looked like the old Guy of Gisborne whom they had seen with Vaisey at court several times, but something was different in him – he was thinner and paler than before.

“This criminal is Guy of Gisborne!” the Earl of Buckingham shouted. He was the only one of the Black Knights who was able to speak. “He must have been executed! What is he doing here?”

Guy wasn’t going to answer to Buckingham. He swung his gaze to Prince John, smirking darkly. “Good evening, Prince John.” He smiled gleefully. “I am not dead either. At least not yet.”

Robin grinned audaciously. “What a day of surprises! Everyone comes back from the dead!”

Guy shook his head; today he liked Robin’s theatrics, but only today. “I hope my attendance at the feast is not unwelcome,” he said flatly, his lips arched in a crooked half-smile.

Prince John and the Black Knights recoiled in horror, blood freezing in their veins at the realization that their nightmare was only beginning. They stared at Robin and Guy with wide eyes as if they were facing their Judgment Day. The fact that Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne were both alive and were in the same room aroused so many reflections and contradictory emotions, that they had nothing to say, gazing with wide-open eyes of wonder at the two men who were their sworn enemies.

"No, this is… impossible…" Prince John stammered; he dropped a gaze of confusion at Buckingham and then at Sheridan. It was probably the first time in his life when he was reeling in a severe nervous shock, so powerful and so deep that he was unable to think coherently.

“I don’t know what to say, my king,” Buckingham muttered, shocked to the core.

“Sire, the only explanation is that Huntingdon rescued Gisborne,” Sheridan inferred.

John paled profusely as rage built within him. “I hate Robin Hood!”

Then Robin made something unexpected for Guy. He wrapped his arm around Guy’s back, grinning widely and riveting his gaze on John, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “ _My prince_ , I know that I came back from the dead to your greatest pleasure,” he paused, chocking back laughter. “I also stopped the execution of Guy and several other innocents, because it would be unfair to execute him on the charge of my murder when I am alive and also because he didn’t try to kill me in Acre.”

Then Robin took his hand away, smiling feebly. His eyes met Guy’s, and his gaze hardened – he was sending Guy a signal that his embrace was nothing more than a show-off, to show Prince John that they were no longer enemies. Guy smirked at him, again stunned how conniving Robin was; now he stood at Robin’s left, looking down at the courtiers and focusing his gaze at Prince John.

“If Gisborne is here,” John said wrathfully, “then where is the Baron of Rotherham?”

“Lord Rotherham is dead,” Guy announced coldly. “Accept my condolences.”

Guy’s declaration drew a gasp of horror from the guests.

Prince John blanched; now he was paler than white tablecloths that covered the tables. Lord Sheridan only sighed. The Earl of Buckingham and the Earl of Spenser clenched their fists. Sir Jasper of Ashton released a colorful sequence of curses. The Earl of Durham twisted his fingers and looked away.

"Alas! This is so sad when someone dies,” Robin proclaimed mockingly, an eyebrow quirked. “Good men shudder and bitterly regret if they kill someone.” He shrugged. “But not in this case. Rotherham tried to murder Guy, and Guy defended himself. It was an honorable fight, and Rotherham lost.”

Guy feigned sorrow. “I am sorry that Rotherham is dead, but he was so determined to kill me that there was no way to spare his life.”

“Damn you, Gisborne! You killed my friend!” John was very angry. “You will pay for your new crime!”

“Gisborne, I will kill you for Rotherham!” the Earl of Buckingham threatened.

“Then try to do that, Buckingham,” Gisborne retorted.

“You are a dead man walking,” Buckingham grouched.

“As well as you are,” Guy shot back.

“Stop, Buckingham,” Sir Jasper said as he gripped the other man’s sleeve.

“We have another important announcement for everyone,” Robin said in a higher voice.

As Robin nodded at him, Guy nodded back and began his carefully planned speech. “We know who is responsible for organizing King Richard’s captivity,” he stated, a small smile of satisfaction quirking in the corners of his mouth. “Lord Peter Vaisey, the former Sheriff of Nottingham, plotted against the king. It seems he contacted Duke Leopold of Austria and arranged the king’s capture.”

Robin prepared to deliver a devastating blow to John. “ _My prince_ , I also recommend that you watch Lady Isabella of Gisborne, the current Sheriff of Nottingham,” he said in a cold tone, an insolent smile on his face. “There are many traitors in your entourage, and Lady Isabella is one of them. They deceive and manipulate you, lie in your face, and conspire behind your back against King Richard!”

“Hood, shut up! How dare you! How dare you–” Prince John broke off as abruptly as he began.

Guy looked down at the vanquished prince, laughing at the other man and enjoying his humiliation. “It is true, Prince John,” he stated emphatically. “Unfortunately, my sister conspired with Lord Vaisey to kill King Richard in Acre. Because of her, Robin of Locksley had to sacrifice his life for the king.”

Robin was immensely pleased with the chance to blacken Vaisey’s reputation forever. “ _Lady Isabella of Gisborne and Lord Peter Vaisey conspired and attempted regicide in Acre!_ ” His lips curved in a sweetly poisonous smile. “Upon their return to England, they accused Guy of Gisborne of my murder. Of course, they didn’t know that I had survived.” He pointed a finger at the prince. “Lord Vaisey and Lady Isabella are traitors to England, to King Richard, and to you, _my prince_.”

John was seething with anger. Robin Hood was playing a cat-and-mouse game with him: he accused Vaisey and Isabella of attempting regicide to take his revenge on the sheriff without touching him, for King Richard wouldn’t be pleased if his brother was publicly accused of treason. John didn’t expect that Robin was so smart, and he was grateful to his enemy for the clever plan. But Isabella was John’s beloved mistress, and he also had a wicked deal with Vaisey; and now Robin had trapped him.

Prince John snapped his fingers, looking at Sheridan. “I want Hood alive. Gisborne can die.”

Robin and Guy understood that the fight for their freedom could be bloody and fierce and they would again have to kill. Guy didn’t care whether he would have to kill today or not. Robin’s heart protested against killings, and he planned to get out of the mess with a minimal number of dead men.

“Try not to kill!” Robin’s loud voice coursed through the air.

“Locksley, your non-killing policy will result in your death,” Guy told Robin in an insistent tone, as if he were urging the younger man to reconsider. “Kill if you have to.”

“It is not your deal,” Robin grumbled.

“Damn you, I am giving you a valuable advice. Didn’t you receive a good lesson in the Holy Land?”

“You know nothing.” Robin’s hand instinctively went to his injury; he felt his scar throbbing in pain.

Guy realized that his words had hurt Robin. He noticed how the younger man reacted, and a twinge of guilt passed through him. “I am sorry,” he muttered.

Robin smiled. “Don’t be. Not your fault.”

A sea of armed men from Prince John’s elite guard moved towards the balcony where Robin and Guy stood, heading to the staircase to climb the next floor. Both Robin and Guy prayed that Carter would not rush to their help and would stay with Marian. The prince’s guards didn’t predict that they would meet harsh resistance on the staircase that was guarded by Archer who released a hail of arrows at the attacking guards, each arrow slamming in chests, throats, and flanks with deadly accuracy. Much was shooting with Archer, although his accuracy was very far from deadly.

Robin wasn’t absolutely defenseless during his grand performance. Among the noblemen, there were many men who had d in the king’s private guard under Robin’s command, in the second guard under Robert de Beaumont’s command, and in the third guard under Roger de Lacy’s command. All of them were not on the prince’s side and agreed to help the king’s loyal men.

In the next moment, several guards attacked Robin. Then Much, Archer, and Carter surrounded Robin from all sides, intending to protect him at any cost. As Guy was also fighting near Robin, now the hero was highly protected. Everyone was shocked that their little plan cracked: they underestimated Prince John’s wickedness who obviously didn’t care whether the king’s men or simple nobles would die in the battle.

“Carter, where is Marian?” Robin asked as he lunged at a guard. “I asked you not to leave her alone!”

“Marian told me that she would not interfere,” Carter replied as he blocked someone’s blow.

“Damn you, Carter! Damn you!” Robin growled as he slammed the hilt of his sword in another guard’s head. “I don’t trust Marian! She will do something reckless! She always does!”

“Sorry, Robin. I couldn’t leave you,” Carter supplied, parrying and blocking.

“Carter, how could you leave Marian alone?” Guy snarled as he slammed the hilt of his sword into the guard’s face. “We asked you to stay with her on that distant balcony!”

“I cannot leave my friends when they are attacked,” Carter barked. He turned away from a powerful diagonal blow and then lunged at his adversary. “She promised me not to interfere.”

“Marian will never stay away from trouble.” Robin turned away in time to block a downward blow of a very tall guard.

“For once, I agree with Locksley,” Guy said as he knocked out another guard.

“I am sorry,” Carter said. “But I couldn’t leave you, Robin. And she promised me.”

Robin sighed heavily. He didn’t blame Carter, for his friend didn’t know Marian as well as he did. “Let’s hope that Marian won’t appear in the heat of the battle.” He swung his sword at his opponent, hitting him in the head, again trying to avoid killing. “Though I doubt she will stay uninvolved.”

Guy looked around, his expression uneasy; nobody was attacking him right now, and he scanned the room to find Marian. “Marian will come here. She always appears where she should not be.”

Robin sighed. “Marian is an exceptional fighter, but she might be… reckless, and that worries me.”

“I know that,” Guy stated. “I know that very well.”

Robin smiled a little sadly. “I believe you do.”

“Don’t talk, brothers!” Archer scolded them. “You will be killed if you don’t shut up!”

As Prince John’s guards stopped attacking the balcony, Robin commanded to go downstairs, where the battle between the king’s men and the prince’s soldiers raged. Not all the nobles managed to leave the great hall, and Robin could see men pushing their women under the tables and to the corners of the chamber, screaming in horror. Many nobles stood near the walls, pressing themselves there and watching the bloody skirmish of Richard’s men against John’s men; the carnage was huge and appalling.

As they were in the heart of the battle, Robin watched John’s men killing Richard’s men mercilessly. Something snapped inside of him, and a vehement hatred for John’s vile nature rekindled in his heart with a new strength; if he had to kill, he would kill to stay alive. Robin set himself in a magic spin, swinging his golden scimitar over a young guard in a lethal arc and then bringing it down with a precision borne of endless practice and expert professionalism; Robin’s enemy was dead, the first for today.

Much finished off one assassin with a swift blow to the side. “Robin, we are killing them!”

Robin sliced a man in the chest. “Much, I am trying to cause as little harm as possible.”

"As Allan says, it is not being funny," Much complained. “Prince John is a wicked man.”

Talking to Robin, Much failed to look out, suddenly finding himself surrounded by three enemies. Robin hastened to Much, front-blocking the downward blow that was aimed at his friend's back, and then he spun, making a tricky circular blow and skewing two men in their chests.

"Much, be more careful,” Robin snapped half-heartedly. He grimaced, feeling a pain course through his midsection. He was very tired, for the journey from Nottingham to London was quick and difficult, and they had no time for rest. And now exhaustion was slowly catching up with Robin.

Archer appeared nearby. “We must be careful. Prince John has gone mad – completely mad.” He swung his long curved sword at his rivals, parrying and blocking.

Meanwhile, Lady Marian of Knighton stood on the balcony, observing the fight in the great hall. She was alone after Carter had gone to join Robin, forcing her to promise that she would stay out of the fight. Yet, as the battle unfolded, her blood boiled and she made up her mind – she couldn’t stay away when Robin, Guy, and others battled for their lives. Marian just needed a sword to join the battle. She would be not Lady Marian of Knighton and the Nightwatchman, if she didn’t fight for England and Robin Hood’s cause!

§§§

Absolute chaos reigned in the great hall. Robin’s plan was to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, but it became clear that they would have to fight as soon as everyone heard Prince John command to surround the king’s loyal men and take them captive or kill them.

“For England! For King Richard!” Robin of Locksley gave a war cry.

“For England! For King Richard!” Robert de Beaumont shouted. “Show them what Crusaders can do!”

“For King Richard – our only true king!” Roger de Lacy drew his scimitar and charged into the battle.

“For King Richard!” Guy found himself screaming, and that battle cry sounded almost natural to his ears.

After the king’s men counter-attacked the prince’s guards, more armed men appeared in the banqueting hall as they heard the prince’s order to attack. Soon, Richard’s men were embroiled in the fierce swordfight with the prince’s men, and more battle cries were heard from the corridors, as more and more John’s men were arriving in the great hall.

“Leave the great hall! Leave the battlefield!” Robin’s urgent voice resonated in the air.

A hubbub of alarmed voices rose, and then screams of horror filled the air, sounding like a hollow echo marking death. The frightened courtiers were moving in a chaotic mess in the overcrowded golden room. They rushed to the main doors, wishing to leave the place as Robin advised. Crowding and pushing one another, the people, who didn’t manage to run away, pressed themselves to the walls, while others hid themselves in the corners and climbed under the tables.

Those, who were still trying to exit the great hall, were tightly compressed in the middle by the arriving guards. Commotion escalated as the crowd continued moving chaotically, mingling with the fighting men. Many people were so scared that they stood openmouthed and motionless, their expressions horrified. All understanding of reality morphed into the chaos of moving and fighting men.

Robin shouted, “For King Richard! For England!”

“For England! For King Richard!” the king’s loyal men gave a battle cry.

As two guards attacked him, Robin shoved them away. In a moment, they lay unconscious on the floor; he had again slipped into a no-killing mode. “I didn’t think that John would command to attack us in the presence of many unarmed nobles.”

“Prince John is capable of doing everything. Understand this finally, Locksley,” Guy retorted with a sour laugh. Like Robin, he tried not to kill whenever he could, instead trying to incapacitate them.

Robin deflected a blow and lunged forward. “Gisborne, I am not interested in your preachments. We are allies, and we appeared before Prince John together, but that doesn’t make us friends.” He stopped speaking and concentrated on the man who was insistently trying to stab him in the midsection.

“I know very well that we are not friends,” Guy growled as he sidestepped a blow and attacked.

“We are only allies,” Robin repeated. He blocked his adversary’s blow, feigned a movement to the left, and then stabbed the guard in the gut. Looking at the dead man, he couldn’t find remorse in his heart, and that frightened him. Robin had no time for meditation as another soldier launched an assault on him.

Robin’s words hurt Guy. Disheartened and exasperated, Guy snapped as he blocked a blow, “Personally, I don’t care whether we are allies or not. I am here with you because I owe the king for a pardon.”

Robin thrust his sword at another enemy and knocked the man out. “I know that you are helping me not because it is the right thing to do.” He turned sideways to block a blow of another foe with his sword. “After all, what can we expect from a man who thinks that _a woman’s pure heart can wash away his sins_?”

As Robin turned from him, he didn’t see Guy’s face contort in shock and pain. His shock prevented him from doing anything except for looking at a fighting and spinning Robin who had been surrounded but successfully overturned the situation to his advantage and defeated his enemies. Before his first failed wedding to Marian, Guy had told Thornton that Marian would wash away his sins and give him redemption; but he hadn’t thought that the old servant would rehearse their conversation to someone. But Guy’s belief was fallacious, for Thornton had obviously recited his words to Robin. Guy should have known in advance that he shouldn’t have trusted the old man! He had been delusional for so long, Guy mused grievously.

Guy stood motionless, his sword down, his face detached as he reminisced about the past moments of his life. Distracted, he failed to deflect a blow of a new attacker and was struck backwards into a nearby wall. When a guard lifted his weapon to plunge it into Guy’s chest, Robin appeared as if out of the blue. Just when the guard swung his sword at a perplexed Guy, Robin swiftly swung his scimitar counter-clockwise until it met that guard’s sword. Then Robin heaved his scimitar above his own head and sent it slicing down at the man’s shoulder while at the same time Guy swung his own sword and cut into the man's stomach.

Shrewdly assessing Guy, Robin recommended, “Gisborne, you could have been killed! You cannot allow emotions to rule you in battle. You are a dead man otherwise!”

“It is only because of you, Locksley!” Guy spat out, talking a step from the wall, closer to Robin.

The color rose in Robin’s cheeks, and he released a sigh. “Let’s consider my little help my apology.”

“Thank you,” Guy said, his uneasy voice higher than normal; he didn’t expect Robin to apologize.

Robin smiled slightly. “You are welcome.” Then he turned to face another adversary.

Archer was near them; he was holding back a guard. “Do you want to die? Your battle of wits might wait!”

Robin deflected a blow. “Archer, I remain concentrated even when I mock my enemies.” It was a conscious lie, for he didn’t forget that his theatrical speeches had cost him almost his life in Imuiz.

Prince John watched Robin with an intensively hateful gaze, and yet there was an undeniable admiration in his eyes. The prince was very impressed not only by Robin’s skills with a sword, but also by Robin‘s attempts to avoid killing. Every blow of Robin’s scimitar was expert and could be lethal, but somehow most of John’s men were only injured, not dead, though many had already been killed. It came as an utter shock to John that he actually respected Robin for adhering to his famous no-killing policy.

“Robin Hood is deadly with a sword,” Prince John opined, looking at Lord Sheridan.

Sheridan nodded. “He is one of the best swordsmen whom I have trained.”

“Vaisey must have seriously wounded him if he had nearly died. And yet, his swordplay is outstanding,” John commented with undisguised respect and admiration.

“Robin is fighting very well, but it is difficult for him now. I can see that he is in pain if he makes his famous spins and even sharp movements; his injury still troubles him,” Sheridan observed with an unbiased eye. He croaked with laughter. “Once Richard said that Robin is a demon on the battlefield and his golden boy in life; I am not surprised that he ignores pain and fights.”

“What did you say?” a shocked Prince John asked. “Richard called Huntingdon his golden boy?”

Sheridan scoffed. “Richard can be very humorous sometimes.”

“When did Richard say that?” John demanded impatiently.

Sheridan didn’t understand John’s anxiety. “My king, Richard considers Robin a great man, and I think that he once called Huntingdon his golden boy because he treasures Robin’s life.” He chuckled. “Richard loves Robin deeply. During my service in the Holy Land, he always felt uneasy if Robin’s life was in danger.”

A long silence settled between Prince John and Lord Sheridan.

John reflected on Sheridan’s words. Even if Richard had called Robin a golden boy only once, he might have referred to the man whom Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine had called the golden boy in several conversations which John’s spies had overheard at royal court in Poitou. John remembered that Eleanor had always been very fond of the young Earl of Huntingdon, and, most importantly, King Richard was very devoted to Robin. And John didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Lord Sheridan, give me your sword,” the prince ordered harshly. “Now! Now!”

As Prince John moved among the fighting man, he briefly looked at Guy of Gisborne who was locked in a battle with the Earl of Buckingham. But he didn’t care for Guy – he needed only Robin of Locksley. He passed by Gisborne and Buckingham, heading to the place where Robin was fighting with two guards.

Guy advanced forward, trying to stab the Earl of Buckingham in the chest. Buckingham laughed and ducked, avoiding what could have been a mortal blow; then he launched an aggressive attack at Guy. They circled each other, exchanging fierce blows. Guy swung an overhand blow, aiming to kill his opponent, but Buckingham ducked, smashing his fist into Guy’s stomach. Guy doubled in pain but didn’t fell, turning around and directing an overhead blow at Buckingham.

“Lady Marian will be mine! She is only mine!” Buckingham shrilled as he parried.

“She doesn’t belong to you!” Guy shot back as he attacked Buckingham with a diagonal blow, but his rival easily blocked it. “She herself will decide whom to marry! She will marry you over my dead body!”

 “I will cut you into pieces, Gisborne!” the Earl of Buckingham bellowed, parrying a blow and lunging at Guy. “You murdered my friend, Rotherham, and I will kill you for him!”

Guy parried and hissed, “I will kill you for King Richard and for Marian!”

Guy attacked at the Earl of Buckingham, intending to kill him, and it was when he noticed Prince John looking hatefully at Robin and moving towards him. But Guy could do nothing to warn Robin about the danger because Buckingham launched a new fierce assault on him, forcing Guy to back away. They fought with the desperate rage flashing between them, and soon they retreated to the opposite part of the chamber, far from where Robin was and where Guy saw Prince John.

Robin stood rooted, looking down at the man whom he had just dispatched – this time, he had taken his opponent’s life. Suddenly, he noticed a flash of metal at his left, and he was barely able to sidestep in time. Robin frowned deeply as he saw Prince John with the sword in his hand; he didn’t want to face the prince in a one-to-one combat.

“You must be dead, Hood. Lord Vaisey killed you,” Prince John hissed.

Robin looked confused, for John’s actions surprised him. “Vaisey failed, _my prince_.”

John flashed Robin a withering look. “Vaisey failed, but I won’t fail.”

 The sound of John’s voice echoed menacingly in the vaulted ceiling of the chamber. In a moment, King Richard’s men and Prince John’s men stopped fighting.

“I don’t think we should fight.” Robin stepped back, signaling that he didn’t wish to cross the blades with John.

John lunged at Robin. “Fight with me, Hood!”

Prince John and Robin circled each other, sparks flying from their blades. Robin didn’t taunt the prince, shocked with the man’s actions and with the rabid hatred he could see in the prince’s eyes. John made a powerful assault on Robin, who sidestepped a blow. As the prince and the hero danced around one another in the center of the great hall, the nobles loyal to King Richard looked worried, while the Black Knights watched the duel with expressions of wicked delight on their faces.

Robin was amazed to find out that Prince John was a skilled swordsman. Unfortunately, John had two significant advantages over Robin: he was well-rested and perfectly healthy, unlike Robin whom any sharp or awkward movement could cause pain or discomfort. John’s attacks were driven by such powerful hatred that they not only astounded Robin, but also drained a lot of his physical strength. Robin’s movements were growing sluggish, but he continued fighting against the angry prince. Every new blow and every movement were weakening Robin, and his scar throbbed in pain.

John and Robin were moving from the center of the banqueting hall to one of the corners. Glaring at Robin, Prince John advanced forward, lunging at Robin with a powerful diagonal blow with such a great strength that Robin’s scimitar trembled in his hand as he parried that blow. Then John made another assault, and this time Robin was not quick enough to sidestep, and John’s sword sliced Robin’s forearm. Robin cried out in pain and touched the torn sleeve of his doublet.

John slammed his fist into Robin’s face; then he punched the hero in the midsection. Robin howled with pain, staggered backwards and failed to block John’s blow. John laughed malignantly, pleased that he had gained the upper hand in their battle, and, with another vicious blow, he knocked the scimitar from Robin's hands, forcing it to fly through the air as it twirled and spun out of control.

An intense, sharp pain coursed through his stomach, and Robin fell to the floor. He tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but the pain in his stomach was too strong. “Oh,” he groaned, clutching his stomach.

Screams of shock filled the air and Robin’s friends tried to get to him through the crowd, but Prince John raised his sword over a fallen Robin and declared, “If someone moves, I will kill Robin Hood!”

Robin had no strength to avoid the prince’s blow, and a sharp pain was shooting through his abdomen. His cheeks were burning with shame that he, Robin Hood and Captain Locksley of all men in the world, lay defeated on the floor.

As John noticed a movement in his peripheral vision, he repeated his warning as he looked Robin in the eye, “Everyone stays where you are! Or I will send Hood to meet God!”

Robin glanced into John’s hate-filled eyes. “Maybe you will be luckier than Vaisey.” He was in such a great pain that he would have preferred to die rather than to see John’s face distorted in a mad rage.

"Huntingdon, _you are_ _my mother's golden boy_. I have been searching for you for so long," John hissed between clenched teeth. " _You are her bastard_." He pointed his sword at Robin.

Robin looked at John attentively, and then he chuckled. "Ah, you know that we are related, _my prince_!"

John narrowed his eyes to slits. “Choose your words carefully, Hood!”

Guy of Gisborne was in the opposite part of the banqueting hall. He and the Earl of Buckingham had stopped fighting when they had heard Prince John’s threat to kill Robin.

Buckingham giggled. “It seems that Hood is incapacitated.”

Guy stared at Buckingham with loathing. “Shut up, you damned fool.” He could have done nothing to save Robin from Prince John. Before he could reach them, Robin might be already murdered.

Robin’s other friends were very far from the place where Robin and John were at the moment. There was no way one of them would be able to get to Robin through the crowd very quickly.

“What should we do?” Archer asked, his expression horrified and confused at the same time.

“Oh my Lord,” Carter muttered in a shocked voice. “We must save Robin!”

“Robin! Robin! Robin!” Much squealed in an agonized voice, calling his beloved friend. “Robin cannot die again!” He was about to rush to Robin’s help when someone stopped him.

Roger de Lacy grabbed Much’s arm. “Stop, Much! You are not going anywhere!”

“I will go to Robin as well!” Archer entered the conversation, his eyes frantic. “I will stop Prince John!”

“Prince John will kill him!” Much said in despair. “I must save Robin!”

In the next moment, Melisende appeared near Robin’s friends, her expression impassive, but her eyes betrayed her emotional tumult under a mask of regal coldness. She put a hand on Much’s shoulder, looking between Much and Archer; then spoke in a steady voice. “Stay here – all of you. You cannot do anything to John because you will be arrested on the spot on a charge of attempted regicide. I myself will handle John.”

Archer knew that Robin's wife was right. "Please stop this madman!"

Much looked absolutely desperate. “Lady Melisende, Prince John will kill Robin.”

Robert de Beaumont emerged behind Melisende. “Much, stay here. We will deal with the prince.”

Looking between Robert and Melisende, Much entreated, “Don’t let the prince kill Robin.”

“He won’t murder him,” Melisende assured Robin’s flurried friends.

“Stay here,” Robert repeated.

Melisende and Robert blended with the crowd, heading to the place where the confrontation between Robin and John was unfolding. But there were too many people, and that hampered their progress.

Marian of Knighton was closer to Robin than others. After Marian had left the balcony and had gone to the great hall, she had found herself lost in the midst of the panicking nobles and fighting men. She had knocked out one of the guards and wanted to take his sword when she saw something that horrified her as much as Robin’s demise in Imuiz – Prince John towered over Robin who was obviously in pain.

Marian’s mind was racing, and she contemplated the lurking menaces of the future. Robin could die again, the world and the king could lose Robin again, she could lose Robin again, and she couldn’t allow anyone to take his life. Marian knew what she wanted to do and needed to do – she would save Robin even if she had to sacrifice her life for him. Leaving the unconscious guard and in haste forgetting to take his sword, she began to push her way through the crowded room.

Melisende and Robert were moving through the throng with an air of serious concentration. Robin’s friends waited for Melisende to stop her cousin. Others were fearful of interfering because any of their attempts to stop the prince might be interpreted as an act of treason. Most of the shocked guests didn’t dare move or breathe, waiting for the outcome in a lethal, ominous silence.

Two guards approached Melisende and surrounded her, blocking her path to Robin. “Get out of the way,” Melisende hissed like a snake. “Don’t you dare touch me! Or I will have you executed for high treason!”

“Stand aside!” Robert commanded, barely holding onto his temper.

As the men hesitated to obey her, the Earl of Spenser came to them. “Keep Lady Huntingdon here!”

Melisende’s gaze was so hateful and full of deadly venom that Spenser instinctively recoiled from her. “You are nothing and nobody, Lord Spenser! I am a cousin of King Richard and Prince John, and I can kill you now and here, and I won’t pay for your murder!” She ran her eyes over the guards who stood in a circle around her. “I will have each of you hanged, drown, and quartered tomorrow if you don’t step aside!”

“Step back!” Sheridan ordered as he stopped beside them. “Lady Huntingdon is not joking!”

“What a wretched traitor you are, Lord Sheridan,” Melisende sibilated the words.

Sheridan smirked, and Robert glared at his former trainer, but said nothing. The guards staggered back Melisende and left; then she and Robert continued their way to Robin.

Meanwhile, Prince John and Robin Hood were staring at each other in grave silence, their eyes filled with deep emotions. They didn’t speak for a long time, contemplating each other, as Robin waited for John to speak, but the man was silent. It was the fateful moment for both Prince John and Robin Hood, the moment of the bitter truth as they reflected on their true relationship.

"And now you want to get rid of me, sire?" Robin said after a pause, his voice placid.

“I hate you, Robin Hood,” John hissed. “I hate you so much!”

Robin looked up at him, giving him a condescending glance. “I am not afraid of death. You may run me through with your sword,” he said in an amicable tone that also sounded indifferent – indifferent to his own fate. However, he was inwardly shuddering in shock because he didn’t want to be killed by his own half-brother. Then Robin chuckled. “Undoubtedly, it would be very knightly of you to kill a defenseless man.”

John’s voice was utterly contemptuous as he spoke. “You are a damned bastard, Hood. You ought to beg me to spare your worthless life now, when I know the truth.”

Robin smiled listlessly, his expression weary. “You don’t know me well if you say that. I will never beg for my life, and I am not frightened of you and death.” His voice quivered to a halt. Drawing a deep breath, he continued, “Dying is quicker and easier than falling asleep. Take my life if that might make you happy.”

“No! No! No!” Robin heard a desperate female voice, instantly recognizing that it belonged to Marian.

 “Lady Marian, what are you doing here?” Prince John bawled out.

Marian glanced at John hatefully, her expression extremely disdainful. “Prince John, it is so low of you to try to murder England’s greatest hero who cannot defend himself! There are many things worth living for and a few things worth dying for – things like honor and goodness; and there is nothing worth killing for, at least not greed and ambition,” she finished a tirade that was like an exhortation. She spoke to him more to win time than to try to make the evil man see a sense behind her words.

John snickered. “Lady Marian, I have heard a lot about your love story with Robin Hood!” He laughed. “Each of you is such a bleeding heart! Caring so much about the poor and downtrodden! How pathetic!”

Marian tore her gaze from the prince and looked at Robin, and the first pangs of panic encompassed her. Then she gazed back at the prince. “Sire, I won’t allow you to kill Robin Hood! I will rather die than let you kill him!” she proclaimed, turning her head swiftly from Prince John and casting a brief glance at Robin, then shifting her gaze back to John. “I will never let you kill Robin!” she reiterated.

Through a fog of pain and confusion, Robin was finally able to think. He had heard Much’s agonized screams before, but his mind had been centered only on Prince John; the pain in his stomach had blanked out his mind, and the world had gone white for a few moments. He blinked and then blinked again; his mind refocused and his sensibility returned. Marian was standing between Prince John and him! At the moment, she was the only obstacle between John and his death. Marian had come to save him!

Robin shot Marian a deeply shocked look, and his pale blue eyes widened in horror. As his eyes locked with Marian’s, a look of ineffable devotion mingled with naked fear came into her sapphire blue eyes, and he felt his heart pound harder. Then his face contorted in pain, and Robin passed his hand over his eyes as if to put away the painful recollection that Marian’s life was also in danger. The strength was fast draining from Robin, and he feared to lose his consciousness.

“My lady, leave!” Prince John said between gritted teeth. “I want him dead!”

“Marian, please stay out of this,” Robin beseeched, his heart hammering harder. “Leave!”

“Robin, Vaisey already caused too much harm,” Marian announced, her arms outstretched defensively, blocking the prince’s path to Robin like she had shielded King Richard from Guy in Imuiz. She didn’t intend to let the prince kill Robin even if she had to die at John’s hand.

“Today I will kill a mocking bird,” Prince John took an oath. “You will die today, Hood.”

Marian stared at Prince John, her eyes blazing. “I won’t move. I will never let you kill Robin.”

A lethal silence reigned in the great hall. A fragrance of tragedy was in the air. The lives of Robin Hood and Lady Marian life were in grave peril. Outside the Tower of London, leaden clouds swirled across the sky as the heavens rumbled, turning to shades of charcoal, and drops of rain spattered onto the roof of the palace. A great storm was about to break outside, and a fog of fatality enshrouded Robin and Marian.

§§§

Feeling a new stab of pain shooting through his midsection, Robin squeezed his eyes shut. He had never thought that he would ever be in a situation like this – that he could be killed by his own half-brother, which was dreadful, even though there was no love and even a little sympathy between them.

“Get out of the way!” Prince John growled, slashing his sword in the air. “I want the golden boy dead!”

Marian frowned, her mind whirling in escalating worry and confusion. As the realization dawned upon her, her expression evolved into utter loathing. “Are you so evil and so disgusting that you can kill… your–” She broke off, stopping herself before it was too late. “You cannot kill him!”

“Marian, it is between him and me. It is none of your business.” Robin’s voice was weak.

“It’s… what?” she snapped angrily. “It is my business, Robin of Locksley! I don’t want you dead!”

“Marian, be reasonable. Step aside.” Robin could see the hurt in Marian’s eyes, and it hit him hard.

Prince John shot Marian a murderous look. “Better listen to him before it is too late.”

But Marian was thinking only about Robin. “Prince John, if you want to kill Robin, you have only one option,” she hissed, her features hardening into a cold fury. “ _You will have to kill me first. And if your heart is entirely black, then kill us both._ ” She raised her voice. “Kill us and join us in death!”

“Lady Marian, get out of the way!” John shouted.

“Marian, please leave,” Robin pleaded. He pressed one of his hands to his racing heart.

“Shut up, Robin!” Marian cried out, exasperated. “If you have just come back from the dead and want to die again, don’t be selfish and think of the people who need you!”

Robin chuckled. “Maybe I need to grow up?” He tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but a sudden jolt of pain surged through his him, and he again collapsed on the floor.

“Robin, you can die gain, but you will always be a fool,” Marian attempted to joke, although her heart was tearing apart in two halves at the sight of Robin’s sufferings.

Prince John caught the glimpse of Much trying to get to Robin, and made a step forward. “I said nobody moves! Or shall I kill Hood and her right now? Stay out of this! This is only my business!”

Guy still stood too far from Marian and Robin, in the opposite part of the great hall. 

The crowd parted for Lady Melisende Plantagenet and Sir Robert de Beaumont. Melisende shuddered, her eyes taking in the sight of Marian standing between John and Robin; it was painful to see Robin in the situation when he was saved by Marian from her cousin.

 “Robert, wait here,” Melisende instructed. “When it is over, we will need to carry Robin out of here.”

Robert frowned. “Are you really going to execute your desperate plan?”

She nodded. “Yes. I will save Robin and Marian.” She sighed. “Now only one thing will help.”

Robert dipped his head in agreement. “Only one.”

Robert de Beaumont had been fighting near the place where Prince John and Lord Sheridan had stood; he had heard their exchange about “the golden boy”. In Acre, when everyone had been mourning for Robin, King Richard had told his grand favorite the truth about Robin’s parentage; an amazed Robert had done his best to support Richard in those tragic moments. As Robert had stumbled into Melisende into the chaos of the battle, he had informed her about what he had overheard, and together they had gone to save Robin.

Prince John continued standing with his sword pointed at Marian, who was brave and fearless. The commencement of his threatening speech to Marian had been made with the intention of intimidating Marian, but now John began to understand that he would never be able to make Marian leave.

With a face hideous with rage, Prince John took a step forward, and then he lashed out with his weapon at Marian. She smiled at him, backing away only a little, her arms outstretched as she blocked his way to Robin Hood. It was the last straw for John, whose control was slipping away. The more fearless Marian was, the more furious the prince was becoming.

“Prince John, are you really able to kill a sweet and innocent lady just because you want me dead?” Robin inquired. He turned paler, and he was completely exhausted too. “Kings, princes, and knights don’t kill ladies despite their usually ardent desire to kill weaponless rivals.”

John felt as if Robin had slapped him across his face. "I hate you! You are my enemy forever!"

“ _My prince_ , maybe we will make peace, somehow,” Robin offered, chuckling. “You will like peace more than war: peace is not a weakness, and from tranquility emerge power and strength.”

“Huntingdon, your mocking ways won’t save you,” John fired back.

There was a chuckle from Robin. “I cannot believe that you don’t like a battle of wits with me, sire! My drivels are usually very charming! My wit saved me many times from Vaisey!”

“Robin, stop!” Marian almost groaned, but she was smiling. "What are you doing, you fool?”

Robin wanted to say something, but no words came out. He tried to shove himself to his feet, and pain again shot through his abdomen. A moan tumbled from his lips and echoed awfully in Marian’s ears.

“Robin…” Marian’s voice was shaking; her heart collapsed in her chest.

John laughed a dry laugh. “Hood is definitely in pain. His murderer did what others failed to do.”

Prince John smirked as Robin moaned again. The nobles, who were still in the great hall, cringed at the prince’s words. Ladies looked disgusted. Men stood observing the scene with sad eyes.

Robin sighed ruefully. “You cannot imagine what a nice job Vaisey did.” He smiled sarcastically through the pain. “Maybe you should swap places with me, sire?”

John stepped forward, but Marian continued shielding Robin from him. “Be careful with words, Robin of Locksley.” His eyes darted to Marian. "Lady Marian, if you don’t step aside, then I will kill you both."

Marian shook her head. "Then kill him and me. Everyone will see what you did in a fit of anger."

“You will die for Huntingdon, Lady Marian?” the prince asked incredulously.

“Gladly,” she returned, looking him in the eye intrepidly.

Prince John was overwhelmed with black fury; he couldn't control himself anymore, and bloodlust seized his heart. John took a step forward, intending to stab Marian and then murder Robin, the man whom he hated with his entire being.  Robin was the second man – after Richard – whom John hated most of all among all living creatures.

Suddenly, Melisende emerged behind Prince John. She wrapped her right arm around John's waist, holding him close and preventing him from moving. In her left hand, she held a curved dagger, pressing it to his throat. “Nobody dies today,” she whispered into John’s ear. “Let Robin and Marian go, John.”

“Have you gone mad, Melisende?” John gasped, his brow darkening. “Know your place, cousin!”

“Let me tell you one thing, John, and you will remember it,” Melisende hissed into his ear. “I know why you want to kill Robin. I will never let you do this.” Her tone turned lower, menacing and poisonous. “If you dare try to murder Robin again with your own hand or if you order to do that, then _I will inform everyone in the Angevin Empire about the Queen Mother’s golden boy_ ; I will also reveal his full name and titles. And then the line of succession will be placed into doubt.”

Melisende and John spoke so quietly that nobody heard their shocking and emotional exchange. The people were staring at the altercation of the Plantagenet cousins, wondering what they were secretly discussing. Only Marian could hear their conversation, for she stood too close, and what she heard rendered her speechless. Robin was in pain, and his mind registered only tails of words and strange phrases.

John smirked. “You will never harm your beloved Richard. If you dare tell the truth about my mother’s sins and his existence, Richard may also lose his throne.” He looked at Robin with contempt.

She laughed waspishly. “But at least you will never become king, John.”

“You are bluffing,” he mumbled.

The prince attempted to wrench out of her grip, but she pressed the blade more tightly to his throat. "Be careful, John; very, very careful. I used the Plantagenet poison on the blade, and you know how deadly it is! I need to scratch your neck only… slightly and tenderly, and you will be dead by sunrise."

John was terrified. “Melisende, you certainly must stop this insanity. You will never do that because you will never disgrace our family.”

“I am a Plantagenet, and I never joke when I threaten or command to kill someone.”

“You will never execute your threat,” he persisted. “If you do that, it will be to your damage as well. We and our descendants will lose the throne and our lands! The Plantagenets will lose everything!”

Melisende avouched, “I will do everything for Robin. I will sacrifice my life for him a thousand times over. I will destroy anyone to save Robin.”

“You have never loved me, cousin,” John murmured. “But I have always respected you a lot.”

“You are wrong, John. I have always loved you as a cousin, and I always will,” Melisende objected sorrowfully. “But Robin is my husband and my world. I love him more than life itself. He is everything to me. I will sell my soul to the devil if I have to do this to keep him safe from you.”

John shook his head in disbelief. “You are a fool!”

Melisende pressed the dagger to John's throat more tightly. "Just a scratch, and you are dead, cousin," she purred. Then her voice became as hard as cold steel as she added, "Tell your men that the battle is over and they must leave the chamber. Otherwise, I will enlighten everyone in this room about Robin's origins. I can also scratch your neck with my poisoned dagger. Shall we try something?"

“The fight is over! Drop your weapons!” the prince shouted his orders. “It is over!”

Melisende didn’t release John, waiting for the soldiers to execute the command. As confusion settled down and the guards obeyed, Melisende removed her dagger and released John from her hold. It seemed the whole chamber was awash in relief as Prince John put his own sword to the floor, his expression changing from hard into hateful as he glowered at Robin.

Melisende stepped aside, her eyes darting between Robin and John; then she focused her attention on her cousin, narrowing her eyes to slits. “Remember my threat, John. You know that I am not joking.”

“Robin Hood has been saved by two women. Oh, how touching and dramatic!” The prince turned his gaze at Robin. “It seems that he hasn’t recovered yet. I am pleased that he is suffering.”

Melisende glanced at Robin, who was clutching his stomach; then her gaze drifted to Marian, who stood confused but fearless; then she looked back John. “Leave, John. You have caused enough trouble today.”

Prince John nodded wordlessly, giving his cousin a fulminating glare. He faltered on a few paces in a daze of humiliation, his eyes oscillating between Melisende and Robin. Then he walked away, motioning Lady Amicia de Beaumont and his conspirators – the Black Knights – to follow him.

A hush fell over the crowd as the people looked between the incapacitated hero and the leaving prince.

Marian breathed out a sigh of relief as she watched Prince John leaving with his entourage. As she veered her gaze to Robin, all at once she was seized by a tremendous feeling of joy, for Robin was alive and he returned home. But then her face evolved into shock as she saw Robin writhing in pain on the floor. Before she knew what she was doing, she dashed to him.

Melisende also walked with short, quick steps to Robin, her heart tearing apart at the sight of him writhing in agony. She feared that she would always be haunted by the fear that Robin might be murdered by John. But tonight, at least for one night, her husband was safe. Robin’s current predicament weighed heavily upon her, and every fibre of her body throbbed with a low, dull pain.

After Prince John’s departure, Guy had made his way to Robin. Now he stood very close to the fallen hero, looking at Marian whose face was a mask of suffering. He didn’t view her concern for Robin as a betrayal, and he wasn’t even sure that he was jealous and angry; then he gazed away.

Robin understood nothing, his head was spinning. He didn’t see Marian and Melisende hurrying to him, Guy averting his eyes, and all of Robin’s friends rushing to him. He didn’t care that it was the first in his life horrifying collapse in public. His world was focused on the jabbing pain in his abdomen ripping through his flesh and slowly killing him. Darkness enveloped him, and he lost his consciousness.

Marian dropped to her knees near Robin, her eyes taking in his pale face. “Robin,” she called, her tone very soft. “It is really you! You are alive!” Her pulse began to race as memories of Robin’s death in Imuiz inundated her mind. She took his limp hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “Robin, you are really here…”

Melisende stopped near Robin, her gaze focused on Marian who was clutching Robin’s hand. She was jealous, as jealous as she had never been in her life. She wished to think that her jealousy was beyond ridiculous because she was Robin’s wife and because he had confessed to loving her in Bordeaux. And yet, she knew that part of Robin’s heart still belonged to Marian, and that brought fresh heartache.

“Yes, Robin is alive,” Melisende said steadily. “It is a miracle that he survived.”

The spoken words flashed in Marian’s mind, and she recognized the voice of Robin’s wife. As if an invisible force directed her to act, she unclasped her hand from Robin’s, and sighed. Marian lifted her head, and her sapphire eyes locked with Melisende’s violet orbs.

Melisende was smiling at Marian, and her glamorous smile sent a shiver down Marian’s spine. Melisende didn’t look like a jealous wife, and Marian couldn’t help but wonder whether the other woman felt at least a little stab of jealousy stabbing through her heart at the sight of Robin’s former betrothed near him.

Marian rose to her feet. “Thanks be to God that his life was spared,” she stated in a controlled voice.

“Indeed,” Melisende answered. There was something else she needed to tell Marian. “Thank you. You were very brave, Lady Marian. You saved Robin,” she spoke in a voice woven of respect and some sadness.

Marian’s expression was carefully schooled to be neutral. “I did what I wanted to do, Lady Melisende.”

Robin’s wife inclined her head. “I know.”

Melisende sighed depressingly as she remembered the document that had been discovered by their spies in the archives of Nottingham. Soon, very soon, Robin would have to make a choice, for she wasn’t going to lie to Robin. The news would probably squelch Melisende’s world if Robin decided to walk out of their marriage, but she would remain fixed upon her decision. However, considering that Prince John was aware of their secret, Robin was safer with Melisende than with Marian.

The crowd parted, and Robert, Much, Carter, Archer, and Roger appeared near Robin, Marian, and Melisende, interrupting the conversation of the two women. Much hustled to the unconscious hero, while the others paused, looking in anticipation between Melisende and Marian.

“Robin, Robin!” Much called over and over again. “Please, open your eyes!”

“Much,” Melisende addressed the distraught man. “Robin simply passed out.”

Much shook his head, his eyes frantic. “Prince John nearly killed Robin! He cannot be alright! We have to save him! He needs help!” His frantic gaze wandered between Robin, Marian, and Melisende.

“Much, everything is going to be alright,” Melisende asserted. She turned to Robert. “Please take Robin away from here. You know where you can take him; nobody will find you there.”

Robert nodded. “I will take him there. What about you, Melisende?”

Melisende sighed heavily. “I must stay to control John. I will visit you when this madness settles down.”

“Fine,” Robert consented.

Roger de Lacy appeared behind Robert. He diverted his gaze to Robin and regarded his friend anxiously, never sparing a glance for any other man. “Robin is in pain. It is not normal.” Then he looked at Melisende.

“Robin is tired. He has pushed himself too far today,” Melisende explained. “His life is not in danger.”

De Lacy crossed himself. “Thanks be to God!”

“Robin needs help! He cannot be left here! We need a doctor!” Much cried out. He sat on his knees next to Robin, clinging to Robin’s hands and looking like a man facing his own death.

"Much, don't worry. I will send a doctor to Robin," Melisende hurried to say; then her gaze slid to Robert. "Robert, take Lady Marian with you. She cannot stay here because it is not safe for her." The king's cousin turned to Marian, then eyed her from top to toe. "Lady Marian, you will need medical help as well."

 “I am fine,” Marian responded. It was a lie because her ribs were hurting pretty badly from the Earl of Buckingham’s beating, and she was drained emotionally and physically.

Melisende studied Marian closely again, cognizant of the other woman’s condition. “The true hero is one who conquers his own hatred and who doesn’t fear to admit his weaknesses. Does it tell you something?”

“I will leave,” Marian assented. She looked around, searching for Guy. “What about Guy of Gisborne?”

“I will ensure Sir Guy’s safety,” Melisende promised.

Marian’s gaze shot to the king’s cousin, and a muscle jerked in her jaw. She didn’t want to leave without Guy, for leaving him with Prince John’s guards would be a new betrayal which Guy didn’t deserve. But she also couldn’t stay there, and they had to take Robin to safety. “I don’t know,” she murmured.

Melisende looked as if she exercised uncommon restraint to hold back a sarcastic reply. “Lady Marian, you have my word that Sir Guy will join you very soon.”

A sardonic smile stole over Robert’s lips. “Sir Guy is safe, although he doesn’t deserve that.”

“Well, that’s alright then,” Archer put in quickly, acting as a peacemaker as he always did when Robin’s friends began to mock Guy. “We are taking Robin away.”

Robert, Much, and Archer lifted the unconscious Robin and headed to the exit. Carter found Robin’s scimitar nearby and sheathed it in Robin’s scabbard; then he trailed behind the others, feeling tired as well, for his healed wound troubled him in the cold English climate.

“Lady Marian, you should go with them,” Melisende told Marian.

“Will Guy really be alright, Lady Melisende?” Marian needed to know.

Melisende gave her a reassuring smile. “You have my word.”

Marian smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

Melisende watched Robin’s friends disappear in the corridor, her mind reeling with the events of the evening. She swept her eyes over the golden chamber, and her gaze fell on Guy who stood near the Earl of Buckingham, apparently embroiled in a heated argument. Then Prince John walked in and headed to Guy and Buckingham; many guards followed him, and it was clear that he intended to apprehend Guy.

Sighing heavily, Melisende stalked towards Guy, determined to channel the rest of her energy into saving the unfortunate man. The nobles, who were still in the banqueting hall, parted the way for her, chatting about the fierce confrontation between Prince John and Robin Hood and evaluating Melisende’s face. She ambled towards Guy, and then a sudden thought struck her at the sight of Prince John who returned to the chamber to watch Gisborne’s arrest.

“Throw him into the dungeons to rats and mice,” Prince John commanded.

Guy smirked as the guards took his hands and shackled him. “A pretender wants to finish the evening with bloodshed, getting at least some satisfaction,” he taunted.

John scowled. Anger and resentment swamped him. “Gisborne, you are a criminal. You will pay for high treason.” He laughed with a spleenful laugh. “If I cannot kill Hood, I will have you executed.”

“Execute him, my king,” the Earl of Buckingham’s baritone spoke.

“John, it seems a homicidal mood has seized you entirely,” Melisende observed as she stopped beside the prince.

The prince curled his lips with a feral sound. “Melisende, you are treading in dangerous waters!”

“Maybe you are right. And yet, you won’t murder Guy of Gisborne,” the bold lady announced as she stopped beside her cousin. “You surely understand that you cannot arrest the man who didn’t murder Robin and who tried to kill Lord Vaisey, Richard’s would-be murderer?”

Guy stared at Melisende, his expression blank, but his lips curved in a smile of gratitude. Despite her cold attitude to him in Acre, he liked her at first glance. Guy wasn’t astonished that Robin had fallen in love with her: she was very beautiful, and she possessed so many great qualities that any man was impressed and smitten by her. Strangely, he even welcomed the thought that she also was his cousin on paternal side.

“Melisende, that’s enough for today,” John growled said between clenched teeth. “I allowed Hood and his friends to go unharmed, but I can do to Gisborne whatever I want.”

Melisende laughed wholeheartedly. “Cousin, don’t disappoint me! You are so clever, smart, and crafty, but now you are acting like a child.” She took a step to him. “Now everyone knows the truth about the events in the Holy Land. Today Robin made a priceless gift to you: he put the blame for all of the regicide attempts on Richard’s life and for an attempt on his own life on Lord Vaisey, making you look like a victim and painting Vaisey as an utter villain.” She put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Everyone knows that Richard is alive, and now they wonder why you made a fake announcement about the king’s death.”

The prince brushed off of her hand from his shoulder. “Damn you and Hood to hell!” he grouched.

Guy suppressed a smile, enjoying the exchange and impressed by how Melisende was handling John.

“Release Sir Guy,” Melisende demanded.

John understood that he was cornered; Robin’s resurrection changed all his plans. “Unshackle Gisborne. He is free to leave the Tower,” he commanded, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

Guy blew out a sigh of relief as the guards unshackled him and stepped aside. He found himself even more grateful to Melisende for that. “Thank you,” he uttered, staring at Melisende.

Melisende smiled at Guy. “You are welcome.”

§§§

There was an eerie silence in the great hall. The nobles watched the unfolding scene between Prince John, Melisende Plantagenet, Guy of Gisborne, and the Earl of Buckingham with bated breaths.

John flashed Melisende a fulminating look. “Was this spectacle with Hood’s resurrection your scheme, Melisende?” He leaned closer to her. “I should have recognized the trace of your cunning, my dear cousin.”

Melisende smiled archly. “You are not the only one who is brilliant at scheming, cousin. I am not going to speak whimsically or equivocate: you should use Robin’s gift to feign your innocence.” She raised her chin, her smile widening. “Save your image, cousin. Find a scapegoat among your minions, and announce that you were deceived by a traitor who delivered to you a false message about Richard’s death.”

Her offer made John smile. Whatever Melisende had done and would do, he would never stop being amazed with her cunning and her shrewdness. “More fun for today?”

Melisende’s eyes twinkled in mischief. “Such nice scheming has a purpose – your entertainment and the salvation of your image and reputation, John.” She veered her gaze to the Earl of Buckingham. “I don’t see other Black Knights here, but I am sure that Buckingham will become a brilliant scapegoat.”

The Earl of Buckingham blinked in shock. “Sire, I love you most of all in my life!”

Prince John put a finger to his own lips, silencing his favorite. “Shhh,” he said, looking at Buckingham. “I know that you serve me very well, my beloved Buckingham! Nothing is going to happen to you.”

Buckingham bowed his head. “Thank you.” He gave Guy a murderous glare, and Guy smirked at him.

Melisende’s eyes focused on Buckingham; then she gazed back at John. “John, you and your loyal dog are a wonderful pair of intriguers. Together you plotted Richard’s capture, as well as Lady Marian’s entrapment into a forced betrothal.” She tilted her head to one side. “Sadly, she won’t marry this man.”

A bleak foreboding settled in the pit of Buckingham’s stomach. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Guy frowned. “Does the betrothal agreement really exist? Or is it a ploy?”

Melisende fixed her penetrating gaze on the prince’s face. “This betrothal is legal and valid because Sir Edward of Knighton indeed signed this agreement when he was imprisoned,” she answered to Guy’s question, not looking at him. “But she cannot marry Buckingham without the king’s consent.”

Guy let out a small laugh; he understood what she meant. “Very true.”

“Lady Marian Fitzwater of Knighton is my betrothed! She will marry me even if I have to drag her to the altar!” the Earl of Buckingham screamed. He turned around, his eyes searching for Marian; then he looked between Guy and Melisende. “Where is she? She has to stay in the Tower until our wedding.”

“Silence, Buckingham,” Prince John barked. He had already realized why he wouldn’t be able to grant the greatest wish of one of his most loyal vassals and conspirators.

“Lady Marian will marry me! She is my betrothed!” Buckingham bristled.

“Shut up, Buckingham!” John cried out so loudly that the nobles in the chamber stopped speaking and stared at the prince. He lowered his voice then. “Lady Marian of Knighton is Richard’s ward because she is unmarried and her father is dead, her marriage to Gisborne was annulled. Do you get the point?”

Buckingham gave a terse nod. “But the king is not here. You can give your consent to my marriage, sire.”

“We will discuss that later,” Prince John repeated. He didn’t want to deal with Melisende now, for he remembered her threats to deprive her of a chance to ever become King of England.

Suddenly, the crowd of nobles, who stood near the entrance, parted, and Lady Isabella of Gisborne walked in. Her eccentric emerald gown, made out of expensive silk and trimmed with light green lace, was a perfection in its Aquitanian design, and every lithe limb, curve, and hollow of her body were both exposing and masking in an unusual way, tempting and teasing men. Undoubtedly, Isabella was a beautiful woman, but today she looked pale, almost sickeningly white.

Slowly, Isabella surveyed the room, her breath coming in sharp, hoarse gasps. She had spent several days travelling with a few stop from Nottingham to London, wishing to arrive in the capital earlier than the day of Prince John’s coronation. She had sent a messenger to the prince ahead of herself, but somehow she wanted to bring the news of Robin’s survival by herself. As she found the prince standing near Guy, Melisende, and Buckingham, a smile flickered over her face and then was gone.

Mustering her courage, Isabella sauntered towards Prince John. John turned his gaze to Isabella, and an ungovernable fury took possession of him at the sight of his mistress whom he could not help but blame for the today’s spectacle. Yet, at the sight of Isabella’s lovely face, his anger subsided into a feeling of extreme desire. He wanted Isabella vehemently, and he felt the same irrational desires every time he saw her.

Isabella curtsied to the prince. “Sire, I am happy to see you in good health,” she said humbly. She rose from her curtsey as John dismissed her with a snap of his fingers.

“In good health, but in awful spirits,” John barked, looking at his mistress, his face displeased. “Isabella, I bet you arrived in London to inform me about Robin of Locksley’s miraculous return.” He lifted a shaky finger to point at Guy. “And about the ruined execution of your dear brother.”

Guy glanced at his sister and smiled gloatingly.  “Sorry that I am not dead, sister.”

Isabella didn’t look at her brother. She had to charm Prince John, for her womanly charms were her only weapon against the prince’s wrath. “Sire, it is true that the Earl of Huntingdon was in Nottingham and stopped my brother’s execution. I sent a messenger to you, and he should have arrived.”

John looked confused. “No messenger has requested an audience with me.”

“Lady Isabella, it wasn’t a closely guarded secret that you sent a messenger to my cousin,” Melisende taunted the lady, grinning widely. “Check the armory tomorrow. You will find something… interesting.”

“By God, Melisende, you knew everything,” Prince John growled. 

“I did,” Melisende confirmed, her eyes challenging her cousin. “I also want to remind you that you cannot outlaw Robin and his friends. You will never benefit from that – not now.” Her violet eyes coruscated with a dark flame. “And you won’t dare do that after our little chat.”

John glowered at his cousin. “Melisende, what else do you want from me?”

“Release Aunt Eleanor,” Melisende instructed. “Or you know what I will do.”

Guy and Isabella stared at Melisende in confusion. The Earl of Buckingham frowned.

“You are a dangerous woman, cousin,” Prince John muttered, and then his face splashed into a wry grin. “But I know that you will never do that.”

Melisende laughed. “John, don’t be a fool. Everyone knows that Richard is alive. Don’t make your own life worse. Or shall I demonstrate what we both consider a real danger for your future kingship?”

“Well, I need to think,” Prince John said dismissively.

Melisende’s brow shot up. “We can return to this question later, John.” She chuckled. “I guess you want to spend some time with Lady Isabella.” Her gaze flew to the royal mistress. “I am sure you want to use her for pleasure, cousin. She will definitely yield to any demand of yours.”

Isabella wanted to say something, but John’s expression prevented her from speaking. She caught a glimpse of a sneer on Guy’s face, and her lifelong hurt and humiliation and anger resurfaced, driving her to the point of madness; she hated Guy with her whole heart.

“I will surely enjoy Isabella’s company.” John found himself lost for words, like he always felt in the situations when Queen Eleanor and Melisende mocked him – he couldn’t win a battle of wits with them.

Melisende’s face broke out in a grin. “As much as I usually enjoy our sparring, John, I don’t think that it is fair to make Lady Isabella wait. She must be tired and willing to rest, and she will gladly warm your bed.” She let out a melodic laugh. “Surely, Lady Isabella is more important than Sir Guy and me, right?”

John grimaced. “You can sleep well, Melisende. Hood and you have won today.”

Melisende nodded. “And you will win as well, John.” She swept her eyes over the nobles, then stared at John. “Don’t forget to find the scapegoat you need so much.”

Prince John frowned as visions of good and evil passed through his mind. He looked at Isabella, who gave him a provocative smile, and he barely repressed a groan as the erotic images flashed in his lascivious mind. He wanted her so much that he could scarcely think of anything else. And then the thought of Squire Thornton came to his mind, and he laughed venomously.

“My dear subjects,” John shouted, raising his hand to silence the chatter, “it has come to my attention that my beloved brother Richard is alive and has been taken captive by Leopold of Austria.” He feigned sadness on his face. “I will thank and praise God until my dying day that my brother is alive.” He crossed himself. “My brother’s survival is a heavenly gift for England, my family, and me.”

“Long live King Richard!” Melisende promulgated.

“Long live King Richard!” the crowd echoed in chorus. 

John’s expression hardened. “The vile man who delivered a fake message about my brother’s death will be punished in accordance with the law. He betrayed England and my trust.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you know who this immoral bastard is?” His gaze searched Isabella’s face. “This man is Squire Thornton!”

A startled hush fell over the guests. Guy and Melisende shook their heads in disbelief, not knowing what to say. Isabella smiled with a triumphal smile, her heart soaring.

“My king! My king! I have never betrayed you!” someone cried out from the crowd.

All at once, every pair of eyes was attached to the man who threaded his path through the throng and froze in the middle of the chamber. Squire Thornton was a relatively young man. There was a certain air of being a handsome and well-bred man – which he was not – in his proud blue eyes and in his compressed and cruel mouth. Dressed in a black doublet and black trousers, every piece of clothing embroiled with gold thread, Thornton looked like a haughty swaggerer pretending that he owned the world.

“Guards! Seize Squire Thornton!” Prince John commanded.

“Oh my Lord,” Guy muttered to himself as he stared at the man whom he had sold his sister’s hand in a marriage in Angers many years ago. He tore his gaze from Thornton to Isabella and was appalled to see a cruel smile of satisfaction on her lips. With a snort of disgust, he glanced away.

A shocked Thornton  flinched under John’s unwavering glare. He was one of the Black Knights and had given Prince John much money for the Shah-Mat operation. He had agreed to sign the document certifying the legal estrangement from his wife when John had taken liking to Isabella and made her his mistress. He had never delivered any message about Richard’s demise to John.

The guards surrounded the scapegoat and chained his wrists. Squire Thornton still stood in the middle of the great hall, so shocked that he was unable to breathe and move for some time; he simply allowed the guards to shackle him. But the shock gave way to fear, and Thornton started panicking.

“My king! I have always served you well! Have I wronged you?” Thornton appealed to John.

John’s eyes gleamed at the sight of the scapegoat’s fright. “In the name of my brother King Richard I of England, I, Prince John of England, hereby proclaim that Squire Thornton has been stripped of all the titles and lands. I do hereby declare him a traitor to England and his king, my brother Richard, and condemn him to death. He will be arrested and escorted to the dungeons, and in two days he will be hanged, drawn, and quartered.” His eyes flashed with dark pleasure; at least something good came out of the evening.

All the guests stared at Squire Thornton who was dragged away from the great hall to the dungeons in the Tower. Very few people believed that the unfortunate man was guilty of deceiving the prince, but everyone preferred to keep silent, for they could do nothing during the absence of King Richard in England. The brutality of Thornton’s punishment shocked everyone to the core.

Isabella smiled with a wide, tyrannical, satisfied smile. “Thanks be to God,” she muttered to herself. It was the moment she had waited for so long – it was the moment of her ultimate triumph over her vile husband. Isabella hated Thornton hated since her wedding, which was the last happy day of her life.

Melisende’s lips were arching in a smile. “Brilliant, John! You have always been a great actor.”

Not looking at his cousin, Prince John turned to Isabella. “Now he will pay for misinforming us about Richard’s death,” he said with a sweet smile.

Smoothing her features into a mask of a coquette, Isabella smiled at her lover. “Traitors must pay for high treason. My king, you are the fairest and most benevolent man in the world!”

“Yes, I am, I am,” John retorted, pleased with her flattery.

“Lady Isabella, you need to take some rest. You have just made such a silly mistake that I cannot help but think that you are exhausted,” Melisende courteously remarked. “There is King Richard and there is Prince John. You must never forget it!” She stared at John. “I wish you to have a passionate night, cousin.”

Melisende nodded at Guy. She turned on her heels and swept out of the great hall; Guy followed her, fearing that if he stayed in the Tower for longer, she would be unable to save him. 

Prince John watched Melisende with an angry and contemptuous frown upon his face. “She is really like my mother! So much like my mother!” He sounded exasperated.

“Sire, aren’t you going to do something… to your cousin?” Isabella broached a new subject.

John’s face crumpled into a scowl. “Mind your own business, Isabella. I remind you: you failed me!”

“Sire, I sent a messenger to you, and it is not my fault that… something happened to him,” Isabella defended herself. “I have always been at your side, and I will never betray you.”

The prince’s anger abated, and a smile lit up his features. “Isabella, I have just disposed of your unwanted husband.” He gazed at her, his face marked with a predatory desire. “I did it for you.”

She smiled, and laid her hand on the arm he offered. “I am eternally grateful to you, milord.”

The Earl of Buckingham asked in a disgruntled voice, “What about Lady Marian? I want to marry her!” He was seething with anger as he had had to watch Marian leave, and Guy had avoided death as well.

John sighed. “It is complicated, but I will think what I can do.” He let out another sigh. “Everything has changed. Robin Hood ruined everything.”

“Should we kill Hood?” Buckingham questioned.

The prince bit his bottom lip. “I need to think what to do.” He knew that Melisende was serious. She had cornered him, but it didn’t mean that he was going to become her pawn.

At the same time, Melisende and Guy already were in the distant part of the large garden laid out near the White Tower. They walked along the dusty path in a profound silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps. They freely left the place, for no guard dared contravene Prince John’s order and even approach the king’s cousin, let alone do something to interfere with her plan to get Guy out of the Tower.

They reached a high wall broken in the centre by a large gate of gilded iron, which was the exit to the right bank of the Thames. Melisende opened the gate and motioned Guy to follow her. They descended the steps and made their way along the shore of the river. They paused for a moment, and Melisende explained that Archer was waiting for Guy in a boat to take him to Robin and the others.

Guy eyed Melisende with an air of deep curiosity. “Why are you helping me, Lady Huntingdon?”

"Maybe for amusement,” Melisende replied teasingly.

“Why?” Guy inquired insistently.

“I am doing that for Robin.”

"I understand."

She smiled with a wan smile. “I think that you haven’t deserved being imprisoned for many months just because you switched sides and tried to kill Lord Vaisey, although it looks like you failed.”

Guy gaped at her in sheer disbelief. “Thank you, my lady.”

“I am not Robin Hood, but I am his wife.” Guy shot her a respectful look, and she chaffed, “Isn’t it allowed for me to be a little more like Robin Hood than the king’s cousin?”

He chuckled. “Of course, my lady.”

Melisende sighed heavily, gazing away, peering into the darkness. “Robin,” she spelled out her husband’s name tenderly. Any memory about Robin’s sufferings made her feel as if knives were running into her body. “What happened to him today… is terrible. He hasn’t completely recovered yet, and he is pushing himself beyond what he can do now.” She paused, nearly breathless as fear gripped her; she looked back at him. “He died and came back, and now I cannot imagine that he can really die and I will never see him again.”

Guy smiled kindly. It was obvious that Melisende was deeply in love with Robin, and he thought that Robin was too fortunate to possess the heart of this great woman. “You won’t lose him.”

Melisende’s eyes glowed with violet flame. “You know the truth about Robin’s birth, and it ties you to my husband with unbreakable bonds. I cannot always be with him and save him every time our foes make attempts on his life, and I ask you to protect him. Do this for England, for Richard, and for me.”

“I swear I will protect him,” he took a vow. It was ludicrous that she had asked him of all men to protect Robin Hood. Yet, he understood why she wanted him to be Robin’s protector.

 “Thank you,” she replied with a smile. “You must depart from the Tower now.”

“And you?”

“I will stay here. I have to control John. I will pay a visit to Robin, and all of you as soon as I learn something new about Richard.”

Guy gave a nod. “Don’t worry about Robin.”

“I would want to think that he is safe, although he is not,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Now go, Sir Guy.”

An obscuring mist hid the path to the quay. They ambled to a small boat through the fog and finally saw Archer standing on the quay. An old man with grizzled hair waited in the boat – he was Melisende’s personal physician who would examine Robin. Melisende nodded at Guy and smiled at Archer who bowed graciously to her. Then she swung around and vanished in the darkness.

“Archer,” Guy called.

“Yes,” his half-brother replied, heaving the monosyllable from his chest with a hoarse, broken sigh. “How long do we have to wait here? Others have already left.” Then he climbed to the boat.

Guy stepped to the boat. “I am sorry. We had a chat with Isabella and Prince John.”

Archer grabbed two oars, rowing the boat along the misty river. “Our sister will have a tough time.”

Guy took one oar from Archer, helping him to move the boat. “Isabella is so crafty that she will be able to get off with a whole skin. She will keep power and a place in the prince’s bed, especially now.”

“Especially now?” Archer clung to the side of the boat; he saw only the outlines of Guy’s face in the fog.

“Her husband will be executed soon,” Guy said in a hoarse voice.

“I suppose, Prince John needs to restore his good name?”

“Yes,” Guy confirmed. “How was Robin feeling?”

“Not very good,” Archer returned. “He was unconscious, pale, and unresponsive.”

Guy stared at the physician, who sat silent. “But you will help him?”

“I will do anything to help Lord Huntingdon,” the old doctor promised. “But I need to know how he was injured and who tended to his wound.”

It was long past midnight, and the sky seemed darker and denser due to the thick fog. Yet, they could still see heavy clouds that seemed to sweep down towards them as the boat was gliding silently through the fog.  They talked about Robin and his injury for a long time. The physician was interested in everything, and every new fact made him more and more astounded, for the man obviously couldn’t understand how Robin could have survived a seemingly mortal wound. Finally, the doctor concluded that it was a miracle that Robin Hood was alive; Archer and Guy only smiled in response.

§§§

A week passed since the fateful feast in the great hall in the Tower of London. Robin and his friends spent all that time at the manor owned by Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester. The manor was located in the depths of the forest in Greenwich, overlooking the Thames on the east; it was very difficult to find the place without taking an incredible effort and still most likely wasting it in vain. The manor wasn’t a house of absurd and extravagant opulence, but it was, nevertheless, comfortable, well-furnished, spacious, and clean.

The large master bedchamber was bright with the curtains wide open, to let in the sun. Lady Marian of Knighton walked towards a large wooden bed where Robin rested. She noticed that he was again sleeping, like it had been most of time during the past week. Robin regained his consciousness in several hours after their arrival in Greenwich, but he had been in such a great pain that he had immediately passed out again. Melisende’s physician gave Robin sleeping draught every time Robin tried to climb out of the bed. Robin was a restless patient, although he needed to rest in order to recuperate.

Marian looked at Much, who was sitting near Robin’s bed, looking steadily straight before himself, at one of the mahogany sphinxes carved on the corners of the bedstead. Much was exhausted, for he had spent almost the whole week nursing Robin back to health; there were dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, and he had also lost some weight. He was so worried about Robin that he slept in his friend’s room and even asked a servant to bring him food there, never going to the dining room.

“Much,” Marian called. “How is Robin feeling? How are you doing?”

Much turned his gaze to Marian, blinking. “It is good to see you again, Lady Marian! I will be alright if Robin recovers,” he said, smiling at her. “Robin awoke once, but I gave him more sleeping draught. I don’t think that he will wake up during the next several hours.” He sighed heavily. “He asked about you, my lady.”

Marian swallowed heavily, aware of an unpleasant feeling of despondency in her heart. She didn’t speak to Robin after the recent events, but she knew that they would have to talk soon, as soon as Robin felt better. Clearly, he would want to discuss with her outrageous boldness expressed in her desire to sacrifice herself for him and be murdered by Prince John, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk about that. Now, when he was a married man, communication with Robin seemed to be unusual and uncomfortable.

She was estranged from Guy, although they spent some time together and were happy to see one another alive and relatively healthy. Her brief chats with him was pleasant and somewhat formal, although he showed a deep concern for her wellbeing, asking her a lot of questions about the months she had spent in the Tower. Marian’s relationship with Guy was even stranger than her relationship with Robin: at least Robin was married, while Guy and she were now free people drifting apart with every day passing.

Marian asked the doctor to discreetly examine her after the Earl of Buckingham’s beating of her. She was lucky that she didn’t have any serious injuries: her neck was bruised, and her bottom lip was split, but her ribs weren’t broken. Guy vowed that he would kill Buckingham for what the man had done to Marian, and she begged him to let it go. She knew that Robin would say the same! Her bruises had healed mostly, and she decided that she wouldn’t tell Robin anything to avoid worrying him.

“Robin asked about me?” Marian settled in a high-back chair near Robin’s bed.

Much nodded. “Of course! You saved his life from Prince John!”

“Lady Melisende also saved Robin,” she said quietly. “She saved me as well.”    

“I wonder how she managed to achieve that. Prince John looked very determined to kill Robin.”

She had the answer, but she would tell Much nothing. She was deeply impressed and abashed with the depth of Melisende’s feelings for Robin, and it was painful to know that Robin’s wife was so madly in love with the hero. “I guess Lady Melisende and Prince John have their own secrets,” she said dismissively.

Much took Robin’s limp hand in his. “Robin is so pale, and his lips have an almost bloodless color. He is also thinner than he was in the Holy Land.”

“Yes, Robin looks very unhealthy.”

His expression turned sorrowful. “Robin is so young, but he has already been through too much in life. I am afraid to learn what effect his death had on him."

Marian listened with concentrated attention, having the same thought on her mind – how much Robin had changed after his near-death experience. She stared at Robin’s nearly white face, feeling a cold shiver running down her spine at the thought of how peaceful his expression was. “He looks so peaceful and calm that I… fear he is not breathing. He looks as pallid as he looked when he died in Acre.”

Much shook his head. “No. He really looks like… a sick man.  I should have been in the Holy Land with Robin when he was sick. I should have killed Vaisey before he stabbed him.”

“Much, Robin is alive! He came back!” a smiling Marian exclaimed gaily.

Much bowed his head affirmatively, and his features splashed into a wide smile. “Yes, I am so happy that Robin is alive. I am glad, and I am happy, and I love everyone!”

Marian smiled kindly as she tore her gaze from Much and directed it at Robin’s face. “I know what you feel. It is so wonderful that Robin is alive.”

Much measured her with an attentive glance. “You do surprise me, Lady Marian,” he told her, with an icy calmness that was more terrible than his anger. “I didn’t expect to hear something like that from you.”

She gazed back at him. Much’s words that she hadn’t understood Robin were ringing in her ears. Now she didn’t want their conversation to be pretense and falsehood; she wanted only blunt honesty. “Much, Robin’s death changed many things. This tragedy changed my life and me.”

Much nodded. “It changed me, too.”

Marian glanced into Much’s eyes. “I was broken, and I… tried to forget, but I couldn’t… It was beyond my ability to forget Robin and move on.” Her gaze slid to Robin. Her heart sank like an anchor into the darkest depths of a tempest sea. “Robin’s death… hurt me too deeply. I wanted to die when he drew what we believed to be his last breath.”

Marian and Much exchanged knowing looks. This time Much understood and believed her.

Much's voice was gentle when he spoke. “Lady Marian, I am sorry that I wasn’t polite with you in Acre. You are right: many things changed even before Robin’s death.” A sigh escaped his lips. “Robin suffered very much after you had married Gisborne. He was absolutely heartbroken. As a naïve fool, Robin threw himself headlong into affairs, although they meant nothing for him.”

“Robin again took lovers, didn’t he?” Marian drew a deep breath, somewhat frustrated and jealous. “He acted in the same fashion when he was crusading in the Holy Land.”

Much ventured to explain, “He did that only to alleviate his pain and forget you. Such affairs gave him a distraction, I think. It is his way, although a morally wrong way.”

“Robin and his wife?” Her voice was like a whisper.

“He married Lady Melisende out of loyalty to King Richard and out of his genuine affection for her. Robin was charmed and fascinated with her,” he said truthfully.

“I am glad. I am truly glad.” She felt a stab of jealousy, but it was what she deserved.

“But, Lady Marian, Robin has in the relationship with his wife everything he didn’t have with you.”

Marian looked between Robin and Much, and then her eyes fixed on Much’s face. “What?”

The former manservant regarded her coolly. “Well, there is no conflict between love and duty in their matrimony. Lady Melisende has never made him choose between the king and her.”

“Naturally. She is the king’s cousin.”

“There are many other important things.”

A frown creased Marian’s forehead. “What?”

“Lady Melisende can look through Robin’s mask. She has a gift to understand human characters, and she achieved what you failed, my lady. She managed to make Robin open his heart to her. She understands Robin’s character much more than you do.”

Her features reflected surprise. “What do you mean?”

Much gave her a long, searching look; he was astonished that she didn’t comprehend. “Lady Marian, you have grown up with Robin, but you don’t know many things about him.” He released a great gust of air. “Robin's real inner world is hidden behind a mask of arrogance, covered with his cheeky grin.”

“I know that, Much. Robin is a reserved man. He never shares his emotions and intimate thoughts with others. He never complains and carries his burdens alone, preferring to appear invincible.”

“War changed Robin. He might give an impression of a carefree and arrogant man, going through his life like a light breeze, but it is wrong. After our return from the Crusade, Robin wanted to be seen as the same young, carefree boy who had left Nottingham to make you and his people proud of himself. But here was much more behind this image, much more than you can imagine, my lady.”

“Robin has a lot of regrets and burdens,” Marian agreed. “And what more?”

“You were not in the Holy Land with Robin and me. You don’t know what we survived through. You cannot imagine how much pain Robin keeps inside. You cannot imagine how guilty he feels for what he did for the grace of God and our king. He even knows how many people he killed; I mean the approximate number, and believe me that you would be shocked if you learned it.”

“Why does he need that? He has to forget. It will be easier for him.”

“It will never be easier, Lady Marian,” Much denied. “He needs to keep a track of the bad things he did. It is his way of punishing himself for wrong choices and enduring his penance.” His face transformed into a painful grimace as he glanced at his friend. “ _Robin is a bundle of pain, and nobody sees it because he covers it under a mask of invincibility_. He carries too many burdens and regrets, far more than many others.”

Marian looked troubled. Her gaze drifted from Much to Robin, and her heart skipped a beat. “I knew that the holy war changed him, but I have never known that it had such a deep effect on him.”

“Exactly,” Much confirmed. “You don’t know how disappointed Robin was in the Crusade and in the holy cause. He felt guilty of leaving Nottingham and you, my lady. And when we came back and saw what Vaisey did to the people, Robin couldn’t just seat and watch. The guilt he already felt prompted him to become the savior of everyone and the whole world.”

She kept her gaze leveled at Robin’s face. “Robin was outlawed because he had to save four innocents.”

She said what they both knew pretty well, for there was nothing else she could say about Robin’s heroics. She had already come to the realization that there were the corners of Robin’s mind which she had never had a chance to explore, mostly because he didn’t want to open up to her. In those corners, unfamiliar and familiar powers – the ruthlessness honed in savage battles with the Saracens and his inborn humanity – battled for dominance. Once she had believed that Robin had craved fame and had needed it to thrive in the love and attention to his heroic persona, but now she knew that she was mistaken. Robin was like a closed book, and although books were easy to open and browse, it wasn’t Robin’s case.

“There is much more to that,” Much assented with a sort of rueful testiness. “Robin didn’t seek glory when he became Robin Hood. It was his way of atonement for the crimes we committed in Acre.”

She glanced back at him. “To save someone here as a compensation for the lives he took?”

“Something like that. And, of course, Robin is a man of honor, and he couldn’t have acted differently.”

“Poor Robin!” Her gaze traveled to Robin’s mane of wheat-colored hair she adored so much, even when his hair was in charming disarray. “He survived through a living hell.”

“Yes, he did.” He nodded. “He survived through hell, and came back to you. But what did he find? Anger from your side and your recommendations to grow up!” His gaze turned intensive. “And, finally, your betrayal.”

Marian hung her head. “Much, please…”

“It hurts to be alone? Now when Gisborne is not your husband?” Much said spitefully.

She smiled. “It doesn’t hurt me as much as I thought it would be.” She sighed. “I changed. I feel stronger and my head is clear.”

“Not everything, Lady Marian! You married Gisborne because you were attracted to him and because you thought that Robin had been besotted with the king. You thought that Robin hadn’t been ready to settle down and would leave you at the king’s first request again.”

Marian’s face revealed her shock. “Much, how do you know that?”

Much smirked ruefully. “I am not stupid, Lady Marian. And if I talk too much and eat too much, that doesn’t mean that I see nothing.  You blamed Robin for his divided loyalties between the king and his love for you. But you cannot imagine how wrong you were.”

“Much, I already know that I was wrong.”

“Robin has always been loyal to the king, but he has never been blindly loyal,” he delivered the truth in most emphatic tones. “He knows the king’s faults, but he never allows anyone to criticize our liege. But he was so defensive of the king not because he was blindly loyal but because the king is his close friend.” He glanced at Robin. “Did you see in Acre how deeply the king was affected by Robin’s demise? Didn’t you understand how much the king has always loved Robin?”

Robin’s great love for King Richard, the cornerstone in Marian’s relationship with Robin, was no longer an issue. Robin’s blood ties to the king changed her perception of Robin’s unwavering loyalty to Richard. She no longer could blame Robin for being always at Richard’s side. She had seen the king’s deep grief over Robin’s death, she had heard the conversation between Robin and Richard when Robin had given his last request about Guy’s pardon, and she finally understood how close Robin was to the king and how much the king loved him. Even when Robin hadn’t known the truth about his parentage, Richard treated him with such deep affection that Marian couldn’t blame him for being so devoted to the king.

“I know that. The king… means a lot to Robin, and our liege loves Robin deeply. It is very understandable where the roots of Robin’s unconditional loyalty took place.”  

“That’s right, my lady,” he confirmed. “But there is something else.” He lapsed into silence, brooding over how to shape his thoughts. “Robin always spoke about King Richard. He made highly-spirited speeches how great the king was and that he would return and right the wrongs.”

”Robin’s behavior gave me understanding that the king was the center of his world and his greatest love.”

He gazed at Robin, smiling fondly. “I am always heaping an effusive praise on Robin, because he is an incredibly smart and intelligent man. Yet, I know that he might do very foolish things.”

Her eyes flickered away from Much and came to rest on Robin’s face. “I often told Robin that he is a fool. I used to chasten Robin Hood.” A luminous smile graced her features. “But I have never thought so! Robin is a hero – the greatest hero ever born in England. He is one and only! He is Robin! He is our Robin!”

His face split into a huge grin. “Yes, he is our Robin!”

Much and Marian were smiling at one another, basked in the long-forgotten warmth that was as hot and caressing as the summer sun's embrace. The happiness and joy they felt on account of Robin’s survival linked their spirits, as if each saw in the other’s face what the heart that was palpitating with love for Robin.

He scrutinized her face. “Lady Marian, you care for Robin, don’t you?”

Marian tore her gaze from Much and looked at Robin. At this very moment, she felt her heart pulsating and her body and heart full of a vivifying, vibrant, and strong feeling of love. She did not only care for Robin of Locksley – she did love him deeply. Their five-year separation, all the hardships they had endured since Robin’s return, her marriage to Guy, and even Robin’s death didn’t eradicate her lingering feelings for Robin. She did love Guy in her own way, but her love for Robin was stronger and deeper. 

“I do care for Robin,” she replied confidently after a brief pause. “Deeply and unconditionally.”

“Do you love Robin?” He needed to know what she felt for his beloved friend.

Her lips scarcely moved as she answered him. “I have always loved Robin, and I always will.”

Much broke eye contact and returned his attention to Robin. “And Gisborne?” he spat the name.

Marian sighed heavily; guilt prickled her skin. “I did love Guy, in my own way. Probably, I still do.” She released another sigh. “But not as deeply as I do love Robin. All of my brightest hopes and my most fervent prayers have always been with Robin. The love I have for Robin is lingering, and it seems it will never fade away.”

He glanced back at her and dipped his head in understanding. “This feeling might have been a blessing for the two of you, but it has become something like an internal malady that nothing but death can cure.” Much didn’t doubt that Robin still loved Marian, even though Robin had told him that he loved his wife too.

“Robin no longer loves me, and I deserve that,” she professed with undissembled bitterness.

Much chuckled. “Oh, Lady Marian…”

She knitted her brows, puzzled. “What, Much?”

Much didn’t respond. He felt that it cost Marian dear to uncurtain the realm of her intimate feelings, and he appreciated that. He rose to his feet and walked to her, then dropped to one knee and took her hand in his. Smiling at her surprised expression, Much gave her with a smile of warmth and consolation that, he knew, she needed more than ever, knowing that Robin belonged to another woman.

“Thank you,” he said softly. And then there was a short and companionable silence between them.

Marian didn’t understand what he meant, but she nodded, still smiling at him. “There is no need to thank me, Much. You are my dear childhood friend, and I want us to be friends again.”

He chuckled. “A bit of repairing the long discord between us?”

She chuckled warmly. “A sort of.”

“You are my friend, Lady Marian. You have always been, and you will always be.”

It was her turn to express her gratitude. “Thank you, Much. It gladdens me that we are friends.”

“You are welcome.” Much rose to his feet and returned to his chair. As he settled there, he sat quiet for a moment, weighing up whether or not to say something else. Then, convinced that Marian deserved to know some things, he spoke. “There is a compelling reason for Robin constantly bringing King Richard into our lives. When we lived in the woods, he spoke about King Richard so much that everyone was annoyed with that. Yet, nobody understood why Robin needed to speak about our liege and show his great love for the king.”

“And why?”

“Robin needed to give himself and everyone hope. He inspired everyone to believe in the king’s return and in the restoration of justice,” he elaborated, meaningfully making a point that it was done for hope. “Deep down, he didn’t believe that his mission of saving England would be successful. That’s why he had to speak about our liege and his return. It was his way to give hope to himself and others.”

“I have never thought about that,” she said slowly. “I have never imagined that.”

Since their return from Acre, Marian often remembered the last moments of Robin’s life and their farewell words, and those words puzzled her a great deal. Robin seemed to have changed since his second departure from Nottingham to the Holy Land, and many events affected his outlook and his convictions. Why did Robin think that his mission to save England was doomed from the beginning? Now Much told her that Robin had always thought that his mission could have had a futile outcome.

Marian had to wait a few moments more before Much’s hoarse voice spoke. “Robin never speaks about his fears and insecurities, and he never will. All his speeches about the king’s greatness were the way to see the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and the way to assure himself that he wouldn’t have to carry so many burdens of a hero on his slim shoulders forever. Maybe now, after his… death, something will change, but I cannot know this.”

“Oh,” she breathed. That made perfect sense. Now Marian comprehended why Robin had always brought the king in their lives: he covered his own fears and apprehensions by displaying and flaunting his love for the king.

“Robin didn’t care that his constant talk about the king created an impression that he was almost in love with King Richard and was ready to marry the king and England instead of you, Lady Marian.”

Marian heaved a loud sigh. “I was so wrong.”

“Yes, you were. But you and Robin never talked. You never opened your hearts to each other. The king never was the center of his world – you were his only island of peace and his refuge.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You didn’t misunderstand me, Lady Marian,” Much continued, his eyes twinkling in mystification. “Robin survived in the Holy Land because he loved you. He dreamt of you and the past. He clung to the idea that he would come back home and meet you, and that gave him the strength to live through horrors and battles. He wanted to return and see you again, even though he expected you to be married.” He smiled. “The love for you helped Robin survive and return to Nottingham, to you.”

She smiled. “He never told me about that.”

“Does he ever talk?” Much made a helpless gesture. “He always keeps his real emotions to himself.”

“We have never talked with him about many things.” Marian’s lips curved in a regretful smile.

“Now it doesn’t matter. You are separated forever, my lady.”

Marian didn’t answer, switching her gaze from Much to the sleeping Robin. She didn’t know whether the divergence of their paths was for better or for worse, but she accepted that they weren’t meant to be together. The only thing that mattered was that Robin was alive, and his resurrection meant that there was fairness in the world and hope for a better future. The song glorying Robin Hood’s survival became the sound of music that Marian hadn’t heard for a long time, and it was a heavenly music for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> As I promised, the confrontation in the Tower of London continued. Robin and Guy appear together before Prince John and the Black Knights. Guy confronts his former allies, openly and boldly, although he is going along with Robin’s plan. They present themselves as allies and friends, although Robin tells Guy directly, not even subtly, that they are not friends, and an angry Guy snaps back that they are only allies. I know that many Robin and Guy fans love the two of them working together, and I hope that now you are pleased that they successfully completed their first mission.
> 
> Robin landed in trouble. By chance, Prince John learns that Robin is the Queen Mother’s golden boy: Sheridan doesn’t understand the critical meaning of his words, but the prince doesn’t believe in coincidences. Robin is overpowered by John not because he is a bad swordsman, but because he is tired and his healed wound troubles him after long and intensive fights. If you noticed, John rams his fist into Robin’s midsection, causing Robin a lot of pain. The result is that Robin loses the battle with John and is at the prince’s mercy. I also wanted Robin and John to face each other in a fight because the situation is very emotional as the fight happens after the realization that they are half-brothers.
> 
> Someone has to save Robin’s life. I have a confession: I wanted Marian to become Robin’s savior, for she is bold and fearless, and she seems to be the right person to save his life. But Robin and Marian are trapped by John, and only Melisende, a cousin of King Richard and Prince John, can stop her furious cousin. My belief is that Melisende would have told everyone who Robin is in reality or killed John if he didn’t release Robin and Marian – she loves Robin too deeply and too much, almost madly, to lose him. Now John knows the secret of Robin’s true parentage, and you can guess easily that there will be more attempts on Robin’s life in the future chapters. The situation is going to become very dangerous.
> 
> Robin is saved by two women, as Prince John ironically says. 
> 
> In her conversation with John, Melisende says the truth: she loves Robin so much that she will go to any length to save his life and keep him safe. I have to say that Melisende’s feelings for Robin are not very healthy – they have an obsessive component, and she makes Robin the center of her world, which is not exactly what Robin can give her because he loves her and Marian, just each of them differently. Melisende’s love for Robin is similar to Guy’s love for Marian as they both are kind of obsessed with them. Melisende and Guy will have an interesting conversation soon.
> 
> In her frank conversation with Much, Marian confesses to still loving Robin. She has a sort of lingering feelings for Robin: she loves him like she loves her dreams and old sweet days, and she loves him because they are connected to each other in too many ways. Her feelings for Robin are healthier than Melisende’s. In the next chapter, Marian will face both Guy and Robin, and they will have heart-to-heart talks which they need a lot. The Marian/Much scene is also very important for their reconciliation.
> 
> The love triangle Marian/Robin/Melisende will be resolved in the siege of Nottingham, in chapter 15 and partly in chapter 13. The love triangle Marian/Guy/Megan will be resolved in Chapter 13. I am not sure that all the readers will be happy with the finale of the story/novel, but this is how I see it, and I am trying to be fair to characters and pairings. There are there women – Marian, Megan, and Melisende, and I confess that not each of them will survive the siege. I warned you about character deaths; Guy and Robin find their peace, and so I hope that Guy and Robin fans will accept what I am going to do.
> 
> Oh, I know you want to know what document Melisende has. I remind you that Robin will burn this document to ashes in one of the next chapters. It is just a little dramatic twist.
> 
> I hope you liked the twist of making Squire Thornton the scapegoat! John needs to feign his innocence and put the blame for delivering a fake message on someone, and Isabella needs her husband dead.


	7. The Old Days Are Gone

**Chapter 7**

**The Old Days Are Gone**

After the conversation with Much, Marian left the man to look after a sleeping Robin. She headed to the study, intending to spend some time among a great wealth of books, which the Earl of Leicester had in abundance thanks to his deceased father’s passion for reading. Marian had already been in the study several times, and she liked the place very much: there were always a few people there and the place reminded her of the study at Locksley Manor where she had often found Robin in childhood.

Marian opened the door and entered. It was already dark, and pale moonlight, spilling inside the chamber through a window, waltzed softly over her face. She slowly went to the desk near a huge window and lit several candles. She paused near the window, looking outside and studying the tiny lights glittering in the night sky, her eyes taking in the foremost, dark clouds that were rushing swiftly across the dark canvas. The weather was going to worsen; Marian sighed, for it would not be good for Robin’s injury.

Marian swept her eyes over the chamber. The study was decorated in a very simple style, like the whole manor. The walls were whitewashed, and there was a collection of ivory tapestried couches and delicately carved wooden chairs that stood along one of the walls. The chamber was divided into two parts: one part resembled a typical study, and the other contained only books – around one thousand of volumes, where everyone could bury themselves for months.

“It is going to rain again,” a familiar voice said from one of the corners of the room.

Marian swung around and stared at Guy who sat in a chair, holding a large volume in his hands. Guy looked exhausted from the lack of sleep, but nobody could have denied that he was blatantly masculine and darkly handsome despite his haggard looks. Marian had already noticed that Guy had lost much weight during his imprisonment; she also knew that he had been tortured because Melisende’s physician had told her that Guy had asked him to tend to the still healing welts on his back.

Marian smiled slightly. “We are lucky to have another storm.”

He nodded. “I can smell the rain, and it is wonderful.”

“Rainy weather will bring dampness and cold. In this case, Robin might feel worse,” she voiced her concerns.

Guy placed a book on a low table, and rose to his feet. “Let’s take a seat closer to the window.” In three strides, he was near a chair that faced that window. “I want to watch the storm, like in childhood.”

“Do you have pleasant memories about Robin and yourself from your childhood?” Marian asked with reckless eagerness laced in her voice. “I know that there was much animosity and bitterness in your relationship, but there should be something good, too. You were not always enemies.”

Guy permitted a smile to pass across his countenance. “No, we were not enemies before the fire. And I am eight years older than Robin, and I never liked his frolicsome games; he considered me dull and uninteresting. We had never been very close with Robin.”

“So there was nothing good between the two of you?”

“Only some memorable moments,” Guy answered in a voice colored with remembrance. “A year before the fire, Robin attended my birthday festivities at Gisborne Manor, together with Malcolm of Locksley. It was a happy evening, and Robin was very nice to me; he congratulated me very warmly and asked me to accompany Isabella and him to the River Trent the next morning.” He laughed. “It was a hot summer day, and Robin asked me to teach him to swim because his father always rejected his pleas to do that. I don’t know why I agreed to teach Robin.”

Marian looked stunned and curious. “You taught Robin to swim, didn’t you?”

Guy’s mouth twisted in a crooked smile. “Yes, I did.”

“How amusing it is!”

“I couldn’t give Robin lessons of swimming in the Locksley pond because Lord Malcolm would have been very angry with us. So Robin and I had to go to the river, to one of the places I loved since boyhood.” His lips were curled in bitter irony. “Robin’s father was so overprotective of his beloved son and his only heir.”

The last words sounded too sarcastic for her liking, and Marian inhaled in annoyance. “You and Robin are no longer enemies. And yet, you are referring to him in such a mocking manner.”

"Stop! Please stop!" Guy cried out in indignation. “I spoke about Malcolm of Locksley who was overprotective of Robin while he abandoned his second son – Archer.”

Marian was shaken by the news that Guy, Archer, and Robin had met with Malcolm in Sherwood. “The news about the survival of Robin’s father is… unexpected and disconcerting. But at least we know how King Richard learned so many things about Lady Ghislane’s affair with Lord Malcolm.”

“I hate Lord Malcolm!” he exclaimed savagely. “The coward accidentally killed my mother and ran away from Locksley, leaving Robin and me to deal with the consequences. He doesn’t deserve to have two good sons – Robin and Archer; the two of them have taken only a few things after their father.” He paused and sucked in a hissing breath. “He deserves to suffer for what he did to Robin, Archer, and me.”

“I must say he has already punished himself,” she opined.

Guy’s expression turned detached. “I often think of what could have been if my mother had married Robin’s father and we had become a large family,” he ruminated, grateful that his voice sounded flat, for the topic was unnerving him a lot. “It wouldn’t have been that bad if Robin had become my step-brother and Archer had grown up with us. And many things could have been different then.”

Marian climbed to her feet and strode towards a table; she lit several more candles. “But we cannot change the past. At least now we know the truth; you and Robin no longer hate one another.”

Guy smiled regrettably. "Robin’s attitude to me is not good, and he is rarely friendly with me.”

“If you mean Robin’s dry humor and taunts, you should calm down; you are not his only victim.”

“I can well believe in that,” he answered.

Marian eased herself back in the chair, staring at Guy. "In childhood, everyone liked Robin’s mischievous ways and his outrageous pranks. He entertained everyone,” she recalled, with one hand leaning on the back of the chair and the other extended towards her former husband. "Guy, just reconcile with the thought that you will never win a duel of wits with Robin.”

Guy smiled wanly. “I have always known that.”

“And so have I.”

For a while, Marian and Guy sat silent, looking at the window. It was already April, but the weather still was rather cold. Everyone dreamt of warmer days and of caressing rays of the spring sun instead of tremendous melancholy that was brought by constant storms and heavy rains. As rains flooded the area with standing water, it was too wet to go for a walk outside, and they were confined to the manor. Now they could again see the storm clouds gathering here and there, black and thundery, on the rim of the sky.

Marian shut her eyes for a moment as her mind was carried in an entirely too contemplative direction. “The storm outside reminds me of our lives. Like a storm strikes the city of London, we have all been struck by the sequence of so many terrible events that I can barely find time to take a deep breath between battles.”

“I cannot disagree.” Guy felt his blood humming loudly a song of disbelief in the recent happenings. “My head is spinning when I remember all of the events in Acre and in England. At first, Robin’s death and Isabella’s betrayal, then these dark mysteries of the past, my imprisonment and your captivity, and, finally, Robin’s resurrection – everything morphs into a fairy-tale. Sometimes I believe that I have lost my mind.”

She laughed. “During the months of being Prince John’s hostage, I thought that I was going mad when I remembered Robin’s death and all the other events that followed our departure from Acre.” 

Guy knitted his brows. “Did they treat you well while you were in the Tower?”

“I was a very special guest for Prince John and the Earl of Buckingham.”

His eyes lighted up with rage. “I will kill Lord Buckingham! I will send him to hell!”

She shook her head. “You know that I don’t approve of killing.”

“I know, but this worm must pay for everything he did to you.”

Marian assuaged him, “Calm down, Guy. Lady Melisende is right: they cannot force me into a marriage to the Earl of Buckingham without King Richard’s consent as now I am the king’s ward.” She shuddered as thoughts of Buckingham reminded her of the man’s abominable touches and his attempt to break her will by applying his brutal force. “Legally, only the king can cancel my betrothal, and he will do that for me.”

“Of course, the king will never compel you to marry one of the Black Knights.” It was painful for him to think that Marian was no longer his wife. Yet, there was some lightness between them that was absent during the months of their tumultuous marriage.

“We should wait and learn what Robin will say. I don’t think that he will approve of killing Buckingham.”

“I am convinced that in his mind Robin has already sentenced Buckingham to death.”

Something unfamiliar tightened in her chest. “How do you know that?

“I saw Robin in Nottingham, and I talked to him.” Guy wondered what Marian would think of the new Robin, completely disillusioned and balancing closer to darkness than to light when it came to dealing with his enemies. “Robin has changed, and you will see that when you talk to him.”

“We have all changed,” Marian said in a low voice. Something from the conversation with Much flickered in her mind. “Robin has changed after his death. You have changed because you learned the truth and switched sides. I have changed because too many things happened to Robin, you, and me.”

“The annulment of our marriage is not related to the truth King Richard told us.”

A long, thick silence reigned, and Guy wondered whether he had been too straightforward that he touched on the delicate topic. Marian remained distant to him, though being concerned about his heath; she didn’t wish to talk about their relationship, but Guy thought that they had to discuss some things.

"Assuredly," Marian answered curtly.

Guy sighed deeply with frustration. “You don’t want to talk about us, do you?”

“Guy,” Marian called. "Our lives turned upside down in the past year. You told me that your head is spinning because you cannot believe that all these things happened to us; it is also my case.” She closed her eyes, as if total darkness were more acceptable than the tortuous reality. She fluttered her eyes open and stared into space. “We should bring King Richard home. Currently, everything else is less important.”

"But private matters are important,” Guy parried; his voice, though being lower in tone, lost none of its distinctness. "Prince John appealed to the Archbishop of Canterbury to annul our marriage because he wanted to reward his damned favorite with your hand in a marriage. We didn’t request an annulment.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to annul our marriage.”

“And?” He was nervous, anxious, fearful, and oddly relieved all at once.

“But it happened without our intervention,” Marian continued, a gamut of emotions playing across her features: sorrow, regret, disbelief, sadness, amazement, and confusion. “I begin to think that some things happen for a reason.” She sighed heavily. “And now we are all sulking in the after-battle time, but another battle will unfold soon. Now we should concentrate on the fight with Prince John.”

Guy knew that it was the time when he had to ask the question that tormented him since Robin’s demise in Acre. He had long feared that Marian loved Robin or had a strong affection for the former outlaw, and now this fear resurfaced. But he had to know the truth about her attitude to Robin because his future – their future – depended on her answer. Guy had some lingering feelings for Marian even after everything they had gone through; he wanted to build a new life and atone for his sins and transgressions, but now he didn’t need Marian to wash away his sins – _he had become his own savior._

“Marian, do you still love Robin?” Guy broached the sore subject.

Marian dragged a deep, shuddering breath. “Does it really matter now?”

“It does.” Guy glanced away, angry and embarrassed at the same time.

“Guy, you have the right to be angry when we talk about Robin, you, and me, but not in this case,” Marian smiled glumly, her expression vulnerable instead of stoic at that very moment.

He gazed back at her. “Explain please.”

“It is not about Robin. It is about me,” she admitted the truth. Her heart leaped with such fear that it was almost painful. “All these events have changed me. _I am no longer the Marian whom you married_.”

He turned to face her, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

Marian’s face was the incarnation of fierceness, courage, and strength; yet, a sort of primal desolation encompassed her from all sides. “For a long time, I was clinging to the old days and to the idea of the old England. I fought against the sheriff as the Nightwatchman, dreaming that one day England would change and everything would be like it had been before King Richard’s departure to the Crusade.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I have been supporting Robin Hood’s cause because it is the right thing to do and because I believe in Robin’s fight. I was a different woman – I believed that good always triumphs over evil and I had ample hope, but after Robin’s death my life was turned topsy-turvy.”

“And what exactly has changed?” he wanted to know.

“Now I know something very important.” Marian’s emotionless voice matched her expressionless face. “I lost my illusions about England, Robin, you, and myself. I know that nothing will ever be as I want it to be, but I also believe that I can survive alone and I can live without my dreams.”

Guy got to his feet, took a step forward, and knelt to Marian. He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. Then he tenderly traced his ﬁngers over her cheek, her chin, and her mouth. She didn’t resist, but her mouth still didn’t smile, being as straight as it had been moments ago. But something was different: there was more harshness and subtle resignation in Marian’s sapphire blue eyes.

“It’s Robin,” Guy whispered, with both regret and resignation.

“I have changed,” Marian repeated. “My romance with Robin is a part of the old days, and I accepted that it is gone. But I cannot say that I have forgotten him.” She smiled lamentably. “I do love the happy moments I spent with Robin. Part of me that is clinging to the old days will always love him.”

“The tragedy of your relationship with Robin is that he would have never made you completely happy.” Guy took her hand and brought her ﬁngers to his lips. “He is England’s man through and through. He will never leave the king, especially now, when he knows that Richard is his half-brother.”

“Yes, Robin is England’s man and the king’s man. I saved him from Prince John for England, for King Richard, for all of us, and for the world.” She again deceived Guy in order not to cause him more pain. She saved Robin as a woman in love saves her beloved, and she wasn’t thinking of England at that moment.

"Please don’t lie to me, Marian,” he pleaded, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Any thought of Robin’s death hurts you so much that you may become emotionally dead.”

“Robin deserves all the best,” she spelled out softly, gazing into his eyes. “He deserves to live and make this world a better place. And you are right that I cannot even hear about his death.”

Her words were spoken with the tenderness that made Guy cringe in jealousy. “You have grown up, but in your heart lives a small girl wishing to have what she cannot have or what is unreal.”

"Do you think it is foolish that at times I want to be a child again?”

Guy squeezed her hand, smiling at her. “No. Never.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Good.”

“And what is your conclusion?” he inquired.

Marian smiled cordially. He wanted to say something, but she touched her finger to his lips to silence him. “Everything that was between us was real, and I loved the minutes of delight and happiness I spent with you, despite our disagreements.” Then she took her finger away, and her expression evolved into sharp determination. “But the old thought occurs to me: _maybe I am not a marrying type at all_.”

With eyes glittering, Guy murmured, "Marian, you cannot be… serious. You cannot be…”

She again put a finger to his lips. “First things first. Now we must focus on the king.”

Guy and Marian synchronically rose to their feet and began to stalk towards the exit. Guy watched Marian as they walked out of the study; he didn’t know what to think and was quite confused with her last words. Through a labyrinth of corridors, they climbed several flights of stairs and reached the second floor, intending to retire to their bedrooms; they didn’t share a bedroom now when they were not married.

Suddenly, they heard the loud female voices. Guy recognized the voice that he didn’t anticipate to hear until their return to Sherwood. As they turned into another corridor, they almost bumped into Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough and Djaq who stared at them in amazement.

Guy’s heart gave an enormous bound and was nearly suffocating him at the mere sound of Megan’s voice. “Meg,” he whispered, looking at her with eyes boring into hers lustfully.

As Megan stared at Guy, her face took on an inscrutable look which was seemingly usual to her, but which only developed suddenly under such the emotional pressure of the moment. A few moments ago, she had been conversing with Djaq with an animation. “Guy,” she replied, greeting him with a smile.

Marian said nothing, her eyes darting between Guy and Megan and gravitation to the unknown lady. Tension permeated the air, introducing an almost tangible feeling of discomfort into their minds. She glanced at the window and saw a lightning bolt quickly zigzagging across the dark sky. When she stared back at her ex-husband, a slow smile eased over her face at the sight of a slightly blushing Guy, the obvious effect of being in the company of the two young women; but the tension continued mounting between them.

§§§

Lady Marian of Knighton smiled with a slow, breathtaking smile as she stared at Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough. Her eyes flickered between Guy and Megan. Guy looked at Megan with an attentive and exhilarated gaze, and Marian noticed the throbbing pulse at the base of his throat.

Megan was very beautiful, and Marian’s eyes took in the other woman’s deep blue eyes, full and lush mouth, and long, glossy dark hair that tumbled over Megan’s shoulders; her face was memorable and set in stubborn lines, which revealed her slight discomfort at the sight of Marian standing next to Guy. Megan was dressed in a figure-enhancing two-piece gown made out of stunning green and silver silk damask and lightly corseted with back lacing. As the gown was clearly designed in the bold Aquitanian fashion, Marian concluded that the girl was from Aquitaine or lived there at court. She didn’t know who the other woman was, and she had never seen her before, wondering what the unknown lady meant to Guy.

They were silent for a long moment, studying each other closely. The rain increased a little, and the sound of it was loud on the glass of windows. The rain and the wind outside wrought a little havoc in the forest that surrounded the manor. The lightning was flashing across the sky, and the thunder was blasting.

Marian stared at Megan. “Good evening,” she began after a long, uncomfortable pause.

“Good and rainy evening,” Megan answered mockingly, giving Marian a controlled smile. She eyed Marian from head to toe, not masking her interest in the famous lady. “You must be Lady Marian.”

Marian nodded. “Yes, I am.” Her gaze drifted to Djaq. “Djaq, it is great to see you again.”

Djaq let out a smile. “It is good to have you back with us, Marian.”

Guy glanced between Megan and Marian, struggling to keep his façade neutral. Finally, his gaze fixed on Marian. “This is Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough, the daughter of Sir Hugh Bennet of Attenborough,” he introduced Megan. “Meg is Queen Eleanor’s lady-in-waiting and her confidante.”

Marian smiled as she remembered Megan’s father. “My father was fond of your father, Lady Megan.”

Megan sighed despondently. “My father is dead,” she replied in a hushed voice. “He was killed in Nottingham during the fight when Sir Robin and his friends rescued Guy and me.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Lady Megan,” Marian spoke sympathetically. “Please accept my condolences.” She realized who Megan was. Guy had told her that he had been imprisoned with one of the Queen Mother’s ladies-in-waiting, who had saved his life twice – in prison and from the Baron of Rotherham’s sword.

Megan offered Marian a gracious smile. “Thank you. Please call me Meg.”

“Please address me as Marian,” a smiling Marian requested.

Guy pulled his gaze from Megan and focused it on Djaq. “What are you doing here, Djaq?” Then he again looked at Megan. “Meg, you were wounded. How could you travel from Nottingham to London?”

“I am fine, Guy. You don’t need to worry,” Megan allayed him.

They conversed quietly about Megan and Allan for a while as they made their way to the reception room. Much to their relief, Allan had regained his consciousness and was now recovering in the outlaws’ camp.

As they walked inside the reception room, they paused in the middle. The chamber was semi-dark, and the dim light was coming only from three candles resting on a desk near a window.

Marian noticed Guy’s uncharacteristic shamefacedness; faint signs of alarm were visible in his eyes, as though he were afraid that she, Marian, would be condemning him for his obvious affection for Megan. Marian knew that Guy hoped to marry her again, and he probably didn’t want her to see him with another woman, all the more with Megan who clearly was not indifferent to him.

Djaq broke the awkward silence that had ensued between them. “Carter arrived in Sherwood and told us what happened to Robin after the fight with Prince John,” she explained the presence of Megan and herself in Greenwich. “As Megan felt better and Allan’s condition improved as well, we decided to come to London.”

Guy smiled bleakly. “When will Allan recover?”

“Yes,” Djaq said with a smile. “His fever broke on the fifth day after your departure. Now Allan’s life is not in peril, and Tuck is taking care of him during our absence.”

“I am very glad that Allan is alright,” Guy said, his gaze shifting to Megan. “Meg, why did you risk your health and traveled to London? You should have stayed in the forest!”

Megan choked back a laugh. “Guy, do you really think that I will remain bedridden when King Richard is in danger and I can help Sir Robin free him?” Her dark brows shot up in disbelief. "Surely, you have already understood that I am not a ninny and can take care of myself!”

Marian and Djaq shared curious glances as they watched the interaction between Megan and Guy. When they were in Sherwood, Djaq had noticed Guy’s apparent interest in Megan, and that had made her bewildered; now she was more puzzled, wondering whether Megan meant something special to Guy. Marian wasn’t bewildered, but she was curious and a little jealous.

Guy stared at Megan a long moment, and then he said, “Very well, Meg. We cannot prohibit you from being here. But you cannot strain yourself until your wound heals completely, which hasn’t happened yet.”

“I am doing well,” Megan protested vigorously.

“Megan is really fine. I told you that the wound wasn’t serious,” Djaq intervened.

“Well, if you think so,” Guy acquiesced. He smiled slightly. “Megan, you should rest more in any case. Your stubbornness is equivalent to trying to win an impossible fight against reality: you are still not strong enough to make long trips from Nottingham to London, and you need more time to recuperate. If you don’t want to rest, I believe that we can make some concoctions to make you rest.”

Megan let out a laugh. “Guy, your advice, as always, is sound. But how are you planning to do it?”

“Djaq can do it,” Guy asserted.

Marian smiled archly. “Tell me that you are not going to start bickering right now.”

"I wish I could,” Megan replied. “But I don’t like being dictated what I can do and what I cannot do. I am not a caged bird, and no net ensnares me. I am an independent woman, and I am proud of it, not because it gives me any power to be something I am not, but because it allows me to be who I am.”

Marian’s smile widened; she liked Megan’s spirit. “At times, I also think that it is better to die my way than to live the way the society imposes on us.”

Guy broke into laughter. “Blood of Christ! The two of you can easily find common ground!”

Djaq chuckled. “They are cut almost from the same cloth – independence.”

Megan and Marian looked at one another, smiling with nonchalant yet guarded smiles. Although they both felt quite uncomfortable in each other’s presence mainly due to their private connections with Guy, they liked each other because they both were two unconventional women, unusual in their own ways.

All at once, they heard the sound of quickly approaching footsteps in the corridor, and then the door flung open. Robin entered, with Much trailing behind him. Robin paused and glanced around the room.

Robin made a deep bow. “Good evening,” he greeted, and a smile manifested on his face. He took several steps forward and stopped beside Marian, grinning at her.

Much stood behind Robin. “Robin, how could you leave your bedroom? You are not healthy! You must sleep and stay in bed! You cannot wander around the manor! You will hurt yourself!” He ranted in his usual manner, concerned about Robin’s health. “You should sleep, eat, and rest!”

Guy huffed in annoyance; he distasted Robin’s former manservant. “Oh,” he breathed.

“Much, stop fussing over me! I am not your child!” Robin exclaimed in a petulant voice that resounded loudly throughout the corridor. “I cannot spend all my time in bed!”

“Robin, you cannot walk freely in the house!” Much insisted, his gaze flying to Djaq. “You will hurt yourself and undermine Djaq’s efforts to speed up your recovery!”

“He has already done that,” Djaq pointed out.

There was a mirthful chuckle from Marian. “Oh, Much! Dear old Much!”

“Much, the topic is closed,” Robin said with the ring of finality in his voice. “I am fed up with the sleeping draught you mix with water and wine! If I knew about your tricks, I would have never drunk them!”

Marian and Megan choked back a laugh, Guy again rolled his eyes. Djaq shook her head.

Much looked at Djaq, and his face split into a wry half-grin. “Djaq, I am so happy to see you! It is so good that Carter delivered a message to you and you came to us! You will be able to take care of Robin better than anyone else! You saved his life, and you know how to treat him! He is so troublesome and disobedient that he can hurt himself! Only you can help me stop Robin! We should chain him to his bed! We should–”

Robin interrupted Much. “Enough!” he shouted. “Stop annoying me! Stop it!”

Much felt his cheeks flushing. “I am saying nothing! I am saying nothing!”

“Sir Robin, he is just worried about you,” Megan intervened.

Robin grinned sheepishly. “Call me Robin, please.”

“Very well,” Megan answered, smiling approvingly.

“Robin," Djaq addressed her patient. “Carter told me what happened to you at the banquet in the Tower. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you about that. You are gullible enough to think that you are strong and invincible, or you deliberately ignore my warnings and try to fight injustices like a Herculean hero.”

“Yes, you warned me many times,” Robin acknowledged reluctantly. “Where is Carter now?”

“He is with your friends in the dining room,” Djaq responded.

“Very well. I will find him later.” Robin hoped that Djaq wouldn’t talk about his heath, but he saw in her eyes that she was going to continue lecturing him.

Djaq’s dark eyes bore into Robin’s blue eyes. “Do you want to know the truth?”

A confused Robin asked, “What, Djaq?”

Marian, Megan, and Guy focused their eyes on Djaq, expecting to hear her opinion of Robin’s condition.

Djaq began her speech in the manner of a doctor talking to her patient. “Robin, your wound was mortal, but you were not destined to die. You had to die if not in Imuiz after you removed your scimitar out of your body, then in Jerusalem from all the wound complications and the fever that ravaged your body for long weeks. Men stronger than you died from less severe wounds, but you survived.” She pointed her finger heavenward. “You, Robin, should thank God on your knees for sparing your life.”

Marian, Guy, and Megan looked between Djaq and Robin; they didn’t interpose.

Robin’s face tightened. “I know that I was more likely to die. But now I am fine.”

Djaq shook her head in disagreement. “Robin, you are still unwell. It will take you several months to recover completely. You will feel better in the mild climate of Aquitaine.”

Robin didn’t like what Djaq had said, even though he knew that it was the truth. “But we are in England now, and we will stay here for at least several more weeks. I am already feeling much better, and I promise that I will be careful; nothing bad will happen to me.”

Guy smirked. “Locksley, do you always play an immortal god? Are you always dismissing wisdom?”

Robin scowled. “I am not interested in your thoughts, Gisborne.”

“I have to agree with Guy,” Marian expressed her opinion.

“And so do I,” Megan added.

“I myself know what to do,” Robin barked, anger simmering in his veins.

“Robin, I saved your life not because I wanted you to get yourself killed in England,” Djaq confronted Robin seriously. Robin smiled, putting all the affection he had for his Saracen friend into his sincere and warm smile. “Djaq, I will never forget what you have done for me.”

“Robin, I am not asking you to be indebted to me forever,” Djaq stated, an amicable smile playing in the corners of her lips. “But I no longer want to tolerate your ignorance of my recommendations.”

Djaq offered Robin to return to his bedchamber where she could examine him, and Much joined them, feeling obliged to take care of his beloved friend. Marian went to the dining room as a servant notified them that Robin’s friends gathered there for a late dinner.

Megan and Guy remained alone in the reception room. As they seated themselves in two high-back chairs facing a window, they spent some time in a companionable silence.

Megan smiled at Guy and broke the silence. “Carter told us how you ruined Prince John’s plans. Now this usurper won’t be able to declare King Richard dead and have himself crowned.” She laughed, shaking her head as if she were unable to believe that it had actually happened. “I would have given anything to see the prince’s face when Robin and you appeared before him and the Black Knights as allies.”

There was a triumphant and gleesome smile on Guy’s face. “It was an amazing day. For once, I loved Robin’s theatrics, which usually annoys me a lot. Prince John was enraged, and it was fabulous to see him so humiliated; I am very glad that all of his plans are ruined.” Then his expression darkened. “Everything would have been well if the evening hadn’t ended with the fight between Robin and John.”

She nodded. “That must have been an excellent performance!” She arched a brow. “I am amazed that Lady Melisende was able to stop the furious prince from killing Robin and Marian. He is a man without mercy, and if he turns berserk with rage, nothing could stop him.”

Guy shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know, and I am puzzled.”

“Well, I guess the Plantagenet cousins have their secrets.”

“It seems so.”

“So you and Robin have become more than allies?” she inquired curiously.

He laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t say so.”

“Well, at least you are able to talk civilly, and you are not going to kill one another.”

“It is an incredible achievement for Robin and for me.”

Megan smiled, and her eyes twinkled in delight. “Guy, I am so proud of you.”

A look of incredibility flashed across Guy‘s features. “You are proud of me?”

She laughed at his astonishment. “Guy, do you really think that I am lying to you? I thought that we came to the conclusion that I am not a liar.”

He laughed back. “No, you are definitely not a liar, but you can be very sly.”

She chuckled. “I am sly if I need to be sly.”

“I know.”

Megan regarded Guy with a wry smile. “One point in your favor is that you are a bad liar, too. At times, you even seem to have a simple mind that can be great in its extreme truthfulness.” Her face turned serious. “Do you know that this helps you atone for your sins?”

Her words had a strong impact on Guy. His cheeks flamed in embarrassment, and he turned away. “I am noble-minded, self-sacrificing, and chivalrous to a degree,” he said sarcastically. “I am such a good man that at times I question why the Lord sent so many hardships on my path.” He stared into the flickering flames. “But my nobility and kindness only exist in a dream – they never appear in practice or deed.”

“Guy,” Megan called softly; she went on as he turned to face her. “Don’t allow despair to take possession of your mind and heart. I think we may say for sure that you have been given a chance to change your life and prove to everyone – prove to the world – that you can be a better man.”

“And why should I do it?” Guy cried out, almost pityingly.

“Don’t you really understand that?” she asked with mild surprise. “Well, what do you really want for yourself?” She sighed heavily. “You want the demons in your heart to cease torturing you – you are not completely free yet, although you have already become your own man. You may pretend that it doesn’t matter to you, but I know that you want other people to stop hating and loathing you.”

The rain was falling harder, with a tempestuous fury. The thunder burst at once with frightful loudness.

Guy hesitated to reply, as if his mind prohibited him from responding quickly. He appeared so much embarrassed that he lowered his head to his chest and listened to the rhythmic beating of his own heart. He was once again surprised how mature and astute Megan was for her young age. “You are correct. I don’t need to be loved by the people, like Robin wants; but I wish them to stop hating me.”

“ _You are a good and decent man, Guy. You have already changed_.”

“You speak like Marian. She always tells me that I can change and be a better man.”

Megan cursed in her mind. Up to this moment, she wasn’t jealous of Marian to Guy, but now jealousy was clawing at her insides, and jealous venom spread in her bloodstream. “Ah, of course, Lady Marian! It is so indelicate and insensitive of us to forget about her!” she cried out sarcastically. “Definitely, she was right that there is much goodness in your heart.”

Guy looked back at her, surprised a look of anguish on her lovely face. “Meg?” he whispered uneasily.

“What?” Her eyes were challenging him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am fine.” She decided to change the topic, so he didn’t discern her inner turmoil; she traced a pattern on the front of her gown. “King Richard has already pardoned you, and you have already helped Robin thwart Prince John’s plans for the coronation. You have stepped on the road to redemption.”

He looked at a nearby window, and shuddered as his eyes registered a vivid flash of lightning in the dark sky. “The king might have pardoned me, but I cannot forgive myself for many deeds and actions. I will do everything to change myself – I have already done a lot, but I doubt that I can atone for everything I did.”

As he gazed back at her, she gave him an affectionate smile. “You are being unjust to yourself, Guy. I can see that you have sincerely repented of your crimes. But my opinion is that you can definitely do more.”

“And I want to do more!” Guy professed fervently. “I feel that I have to do a lot more to redeem myself. I want to help Robin save the king and bring him back to England.” He heaved a sigh. “Ultimately, it is not my right to decide whether I can atone or not – only God can judge me.”

“Then maybe you should go to a church, although I doubt that this is what you want.”

Guy’s mind drifted back to the old priest who served in the church in the suburbs of Nottingham and who had once told him to never raise a sword against King Richard and Robin. “Maybe I will do that.”

“You probably don’t believe in God, but I tend to think that you agree with me that sometimes faith in God helps find the right path in your life.” Megan shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She made a sharp movement, and an acute pain slashed through her side; she winced in pain.

His face creased in concern. "What is the matter, Meg? Are you feeling unwell?”

"My wound is still healing, but overall I am fine," she said with a gasp of relief as the pain receded. “It wasn’t very serious, and I didn’t even contract a fever. If you don’t believe me, then ask Djaq.”

He measured her with a skeptical look. “Your self-confidence and stubbornness are unwavering.”

She showed her ivories in a laugh. “Well, it’s me, Meg! I would have been less stubborn and less independent if my father hadn’t allowed me to be just myself. And I wanted to be strong for him.”

“Your father was immensely proud of your accomplishments, Meg.”

Her smiling face morphed into melancholy. “I know. I remember my father’s last message.” She got to her feet. “Have you dined yet? Maybe we should join the others in the dining room?”

“Well, if you want,” Guy conceded, although he wasn’t happy to see Robin’s friends.

Megan and Guy stalked towards the great hall in a pressing, lugubrious silence. She was brooding over Guy’s relationship with Marian, curious to learn more about their attitude towards the annulment of their marriage. Guy’s mind was centered on Megan as he thought that never in his lifetime had he imagined that he would care so much about a woman’s health if she wasn’t Marian. Megan and Guy together survived through hell, which somehow tied them to one another by the bonds of solid friendship.

§§§

Several more uneventful days passed slowly. The sun had set, dusk fell on the River Thames, and lights began to appear along the shore. Unlike on other days, the manor in the depths of the forest in Greenwich had many guests tonight as King Richard’s loyal men gathered to discuss the plan of action to free King Richard from captivity in Austria and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine from Pontefract Castle.

The small reception room on the second floor of the manor was overcrowded with high-back chairs and armchairs. The chamber was brilliantly illuminated with eight torches that hung along the walls, with two torches on each wall. It was a time fraught with tension and anxiety, but everyone tried to conceal their apprehensions, although almost all of them could read their feelings as easily as if they were their own.

Lady Amicia de Beaumont sat in a high-back chair near the hearth; her younger brother, Sir Robert de Beaumont, occupied the place at Amicia’s right. Sir Roger de Lacy, Sir Carter Leighton of Stretton, and Sir Roger de Tosny sat in the armchairs near Leicester and his sister. Robin and Much settled themselves together in a corner of the room, next to Robert and Amicia. Sir Guy of Gisborne, Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough, and Lady Marian of Knighton sat close to each other. Archer was at Guy’s side, for he decided not to leave his elder half-brother with Robin’s friends who disliked him a lot.

“I have some interesting news about King Richard,” Amicia de Beaumont began. “Thanks to Robert, we figured out what happened to our king and how he ended up in Austria. Thanks to Megan, we learned that our king was taken prisoner by Duke Leopold of Austria.” She sighed heavily. “But something serious is going to happen.” She trailed off, sweeping her eyes over the king’s loyal men.

“Amicia, what… is going on?” Robert de Beaumont asked his sister.

“Is… the king alive?” Robin choked out.

Amicia inclined her head in confirmation. She was distraught since the day when she had first heard rumors about Richard’s disappearance, praying that the king would come back home alive. “King Richard is alive. At first, Richard has been held locked up in Tiernsteign Castle. Then, to keep his imprisonment a secret, Duke Leopold removed him from Tiernsteign and imprisoned him in Durnstein Castle, a stronghold on the Danube fifty miles to the west of Vienna; this is the castle owned by the Holy Roman Emperor.”

Leaning back onto his seat, Robin sat in silence, his eyes flitting between Amicia and Robert. Then he began speaking in a rather flat monotone. “If King Richard is locked in Durnstein, it means that the Holy Roman Emperor is implicated in the plot against our liege.”

“The secret letter from Prince John to Lady Isabella of Gisborne had some more interesting information,” Megan informed them. “The prince wrote that the Holy Roman Emperor already knew about King Richard’s capture and was gloating shamelessly about the imprisonment of his sworn enemy.”

“What else did you read in that letter?” Amicia questioned.

Megan continued sharing with them the intelligence she had gathered in Nottingham. “Prince John informed Lady Isabella in details about the king’s capture. The king fell ill at a little inn, and while he was in his bed, one of his servants went to Duke Leopold’s palace carrying the king's glove; someone betrayed our liege. Afterwards, the duke sold out the king for a large sum to the emperor.”

“Poor King Richard,” Marian murmured. Strangely, at that moment, she was as steadfastly committed to the king’s salvation as Robin was, even though she often criticized the king for his absence in England. Perhaps, she tried to distract herself from her thoughts of Robin and Guy.

“Damn all these traitors,” Robert de Beaumont growled.

Roger de Lacy’s expression turned into harshness. “Let them burn in hell! They don’t deserve to live!”

“There are too many traitors,” Carter said in a voice edged with conspicuous disdain.

Archer and Guy shared uneasy glances. They both didn’t like what they heard about the king’s fate, but they also felt uncomfortable among Richard’s most loyal men and favorites. They had once sided with Prince John, and it was rather odd to be in the midst of the men who had always been unconditionally loyal to the rightful monarch. Archer and Guy wished to save the king, but they would never be as loyal to them as Robin and his comrades were.

“Some of them are already dead; I mean Lord Rotherham.” Megan felt obliged to do everything to save the king. She was the Queen Mother’s confidante; her father was very loyal to the king and was Richard’s close friend; and that cemented her absolute loyalty to Richard and Eleanor.

As his mind floated to the days of his service in the Holy Land, Robin recollected, “Rotherham tried to kill King Richard in the massacre in Acre, but we stopped them.”

“I wonder who betrayed King Richard,” Roger de Tosny speculated.

“I have no idea.” Robin struggled to keep his control from slipping away as his rage boiled. “But there was someone who betrayed the king to Duke Leopold of Austria when they were in Vienna.”

Amicia swung her gaze to Robin. “It was Lord Vaisey’s plan to kidnap King Richard on the way back from Acre. The Earl of Buckingham contacted Prince John’s international allies and negotiated the dastardly deed with them. As far as I know, Buckingham spent many months on the continent, traveling between the continental lands of the Angevin Empire, France, and the Holy Roman Empire.”

Guy clenched and unclenched his fists. “Again Buckingham! We should get rid of him!”

Roger de Lacy gave Gisborne a scornful look. “Nobody permitted you to speak, Gisborne.”

“Gisborne is better to keep silent,” Carter agreed.

Much shot Guy a withering look. “Gisborne should not be here with us – the king’s loyal subjects. He doesn’t deserve to know how we are going to save our liege whom he tried to kill twice and failed thanks to Robin. He must be arrested and executed for his crimes.”

Robin waved a hand for silence. “Quiet!” he thundered. “How many times do we need to talk about that? I said that I am willing to trust Gisborne, and that must be enough for all of you.”

Guy gave Robin a smile full of gratitude. Marian and Megan also smiled at Robin.

“Robin, but he cannot–” Much protested, but Robin interrupted him.

“Enough,” Robin raised his voice, his expression crusty. “There are more important things to discuss. We cannot allow ourselves to waste time on nothing.”

“I agree with Robin,” Robert de Beaumont said emphatically. “I don’t like Gisborne at all, but I am ready to tolerate him if this is what Robin wants from us.”

“I don’t think that we should kill the Earl of Buckingham,” Robin mused aloud; he preferred to change the topic as quickly as he could, for he didn’t want to be embroiled in an argument with Much about Gisborne. “There is another option we should consider. We may kidnap Buckingham and make him cooperate. He may be very useful for us.” He turned his gaze at Amicia. “Amicia, is it possible to sway Buckingham to change his allegiances?”

Amicia shook her head. “I doubt that, Robin.”

Robin ran his eyes over his companions, his gaze sharp and cold; his friends nodded at him as a silent understanding settled between the king’s men. “Then we will preclude Lord Buckingham from contacting Prince John’s international allies again. He might try to arrange that the prince pays Duke Leopold, Emperor Henry, or King Philippe more money to extend the king’s imprisonment.”

“Then we shall dispose of Buckingham,” Roger de Lacy surmised.

“Yes,” Robin concluded somewhat strenuously.

Amicia smiled. “Buckingham cannot be allowed to live because otherwise, he will continue weaving his international plots against King Richard.” Her aquamarine eyes were full of abhorrence, for she hated the traitor for arranging Richard’s kidnapping. “At first, we will seize the treasury funds from him,” she added, running her gaze across her companions. “Prince John gave Buckingham the treasure to deliver it to King Philippe of France. Maybe he plans to use this money to pay to the emperor for the transfer of Richard into Philippe’s custody and then into John’s custody, which will be tantamount to the king’s assassination.”

Robin tapped his chin and pressed his lips into a straight line. “That’s troubling news.”

“More than troubling,” Robert assented.

“Then we need to steal this treasure,” Marian uttered for the first time during the evening.

Robin veered his gaze to Marian, grinning widely. “Indeed, we should steal it, and we will succeed.”

“My little bird, do you have a new half-a-plan?” Robert asked Robin, snickering.

Robin and Robert looked at one another, smiling and exchanging signals which only they understood.

Robin winked at his friend conspiratorially. “Your little bird always has a daring half-a-plan.”

Archer’s lips stretched in a grin. “Ah, I see that the two Roberts are again living in their private world.” He smirked as Robin scowled at the sound of his baptismal name which the hero hated. “Please tell us what your half-a-plan is, so we can know how we are going to have ourselves killed.”

“Yeah, Robert and his little bird are just infatuated with each other,” Much said, smiling broadly.

“Euphemism, Much,” Robert retorted with a chuckle.

Robin threw his head back and laughed. Everyone else let out small smiles in response.

A grin lifted Robin's sensual lips. “Much might send a saint to perdition.”

“Only with you, Robin,” Much responded to the joke.

“But saints are in heaven,” Megan interjected. “So the three of you can just make peace.”

“We are making peace, Megan,” Robin stated with a large smile. Then his face turned serious. “Well, back to our question. We should steal the treasure from Buckingham, but we should also prepare for the battle at Pontefract to release Queen Eleanor.”

“It is wise,” Amicia said. “Prince John will never allow you to release the Queen Mother without a fight. He has already sent Lord Sheridan and a huge army to Pontefract; they will be waiting for you there.”

De Lacy’s eyes turned as hard as emeralds. “We thought that it would happen.  I suggest that Robert and I leave Greenwich tomorrow and join our forces with our loyal men who fought with us in Palestine.” He swung his gaze to Robin. “Pontefract Castle is my old estate, and I know it as one knows his ten fingers. Without any difficulty, I will be able to devise a strategy of the battle near the fortress and inside the castle as well. Then we will be able to break Queen Eleanor from the castle.”

Robert nodded. “I like this plan.” His gaze slid to Robin. “Robin, I am going to say something which you will probably dislike. I think that you should not be involved in stealing the treasure from Buckingham’s estate. You should take care of yourself and save your strength for the battle at Pontefract.”

“Yes, Robin,” Archer said. “You should take care of yourself.”

“Robin, you cannot strain yourself,” Much muttered.

Robin’s face lit up with a cryptic smile. “Don’t waste time trying to persuade me to do anything.” He looked between Guy and Archer. “I don’t plan to participate in the new mission.”

Marian looked interested. “And what is your plan, Robin?”

Robin smiled with a Cheshire-cat smile. “It is an outstanding half-a-plan. Trust me it will work. Archer, Guy, Megan, and Allan will go on this mission; Archer will be in charge.”

Surprise suffused Archer’s features. “Are you sure that you want me to lead?”

Archer’s surprise drew a genuine smile from Robin. “You see, brother, there is one reason which makes me believe you are the best candidate for this. Among all of us, Robert, you, and I use unorthodox methods, and that’s exactly what we need for this mission.”

A few more words of explanation followed; the words which were spoken with the greatest excitement by Archer and Megan, for Robin’s unusual plan awakened a feeling of agitation in them.

Guy sat with a shocked look on his face; he was astounded that Robin trusted him to perform a mission of vital importance for the king. Roger de Tosny winked at Guy, and Guy smiled back at his old friend. For a minute, Guy wondered whether Robin designated those who were friendly towards Guy: Robin didn’t ask Carter and Much to participate, and Guy silently thanked Robin for that.

“Robin, are you sure that you trust Gisborne?” de Lacy asked cautiously.

Robin dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Yes, I am.”

Much’s mouth twisted in disgust. “Gisborne is dangerous and unreliable. If they steal the money from Buckingham, Gisborne can kill our friends and run away. We cannot trust him.”

Marian shot Much an annoyed look. “Much, when will you stop doing things you should not do?”

“Much, shut up!” Robin nearly screamed. “I have already said everything, and this is my last word.”

“Oh my Lord!” Guy murmured to himself. “One day I will surely murder you, Lord Much.”

Much looked at Robin, a dangerous light flaring up in his eyes. “Robin, this man is a killer! He will never become a normal man! He threatens to murder me even now!”

“Much, he does this because you are insulting him,” Robert reproved.

“Actually, I agree with Much,” de Lacy commented.

“Please, stop arguing,” Roger de Tosny intervened.

Amicia sighed woefully; she felt sympathetic with Guy that he had to tolerate personal affronts from Robin’s friends. “Sir Guy of Gisborne pledged his loyalty to King Richard, who pardoned him in Acre. He has no reason to betray our liege. How many times do we need to repeat that?”

Amicia’s words sobered everyone, and a hush fell over the chamber.

Biting his bottom lip, Much averted his gaze. “Let it be as Robin wishes.”

Marian’s eyes flashed. “Maybe, I will also help Archer and Guy in their plan.”

“Oh, no, not this,” Guy muttered to himself; he knew what would follow her words.

Robin gazed deprecatingly at Marian. “No, Marian. You will stay with us. We will return to Sherwood.”

Every pair of eyes was glued to Marian and Robin, everyone reduced to waiting in a nervous silence.

Marian’s temper suddenly flared up. “Robin, I don’t want to stay away when I can help save the king.”

“No,” Robin’s metallic voice resonated.

“I am not your soldier from the private guard, Robin of Locksley,” Marian flung back, glancing angrily at Robin. “I don’t need such unnecessary protection. I prefer to stay on the front and do everything for the king’s release. I have never given you any reason to think that I cannot take care of myself.”

Robin gave Marian a weary glance. “Marian, you are impossible! How can you participate in this plan if we haven’t resolved the situation with your betrothal to the Earl of Buckingham? Don’t you understand that if he sees you, he will be adamant about capturing you? Melisende helped us take you out of the Tower, which only she could do, but she won’t always be able to aid us in getting you out of trouble.”

Guy smiled slightly at Robin’s words, thinking that Marian was pigheaded and stubborn with both Robin and himself. “Marian, I agree with Robin. We were fortunate to rescue you from the Tower, and we must try to avoid extreme situations again. Buckingham caused enough damage and trouble.”

Marian glowered at Guy, her eyes condemning him for interference; then she turned to Robin. Her eyes flashed in indignation, for the words of her former betrothed injured her pride. “I am very grateful to Lady Melisende, but I don’t expect her to help me again. I would have never married Lord Buckingham even without your wife’s intervention, Robin. I loathe Buckingham and all of Prince John’s other minions.”

At her speech, Roger de Lacy and Robert de Beaumont barely repressed smiles. It seemed that they were about to say that Marian had once married Guy, a former traitor to King Richard. Guy noticed the reactions of the two men, and clenched his fists as ebony fury mingled with discontentedness coursed through him.

Robin rubbed his face in frustration. “Marian, this argument is exhausting me.” He sighed tiredly. “I did not expect to hear such words from you. I thought that you changed after the months of your captivity. I hoped that you became more cautious and less reckless, but I see that I was mistaken.”

“You are wrong, Robin. I have changed,” Marian articulated slowly, her voice stressing each word.

Robin looked inquiringly at Marian, but decided to say nothing; he intended to talk to Marian in private. Guy also stared at Marian, prudently keeping silent and hoping that Marian would not choose to continue expressing her displeasure and disagreement in the presence of so many people.

Robert de Beaumont never liked Marian very much, and now her irrational stubbornness irritated him. “Lady Marian, you don’t understand such simple things. If you are captured by Buckingham and his men, we will have to rush to your help. If you don’t think about your own safety, please think about others.”

Roger de Lacy surveyed Marian accusingly, then swung his gaze to Guy and then to Robin. Like Robert, he was never fond of Marian and never considered her a good match for Robin. “Lady Marian, Robin, and Gisborne will rush to rescue you if you are captured. Do you really want to stir up trouble?”

Marian's eyes roamed over the others, and she could see a trace of annoyance on their faces, except for Guy and Archer. Robin wasn’t looking at her. Megan and Amicia were keeping quiet, smiling at Marian, but they were not in agreement with her. The tension in the room betrayed everyone’s intense dissatisfaction. She knew that she had lost the argument, although she didn’t share their opinion.

Marian frowned. “I always think about the lives of others. I just wanted to help.”

Megan attempted to diffuse the tension. “Marian, I respect your passionate desire to save King Richard, for I myself would have done everything for our liege. But it would be better if Buckingham has no chance to capture you before the king’s return and the dissolution of your betrothal to this traitor.”

“Very well,” Marian said reluctantly. “This time, I will stay behind.”

“Thank be to God that we have come to an agreement,” Robin murmured in a disheartened voice.

“Marian, listen to them,” Guy said entreatingly. “Not everything is as unappealing as it may seem. You will be able to take care of the poor if you return to Sherwood for a while.”

Robin sent Marian an encouraging smile. “We find your costume of the Nightwatchman. Maybe you may use it again, although it may be unreasonable after out spectacle in Nottingham.”

Marian’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

Guy stared at Robin. “Locksley, will you explain, or should I do this?”

Robin shook his head and began. “Robert played the role of the Nightwatchman to create a distraction for the guards when we were rescuing Guy, Megan, Rebecca, and Kate from the gallows,” he explained in a nearly indifferent voice, as if the situation didn’t concern him. “We all know your secret, Marian.”

Marian restrained from throwing a nasty barb at Robin. “Oh, I see.” The Nightwatchman was something personal, her own brainchild, and she wasn’t pleased with the revelation.

“I am sorry, Marian, but this time, you are doing nothing,” Robin closed the discussion.

Marian opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She still had no idea what had happened in Nottingham on the day of Guy’s execution. She would ask Robin and Guy about that later.

§§§

The crescent moon shone in the night sky, basking the land in its modest glow. Amicia, Robert, Megan, and Guy ambled out of the manor and headed to the quay where a boat waited for him to take Amicia from Greenwich back to the Tower. Amicia and Robert walked next to each other, quietly conversing and laughing. Megan and Guy followed them; it was Guy’s idea to accompany Megan to the river.

Robert asked his elder sister, “Amicia, are you sure that your life is not in danger in the Tower?”

Amicia smiled at her brother. “Once again, you amaze me, Robert. You know that I am always willing to risk my life for Richard. I have been doing this for many years, and everything was alright.”

Robert sighed. “I know that you will do everything for Richard, and so will I.”

“You and I pledged our lives to Richard, though in different ways,” she underscored.

“But are you sure that your cover of John’s mistress is enough to protect you?”

"Yes,” Amicia said, lengthening out the word by drawing each syllable. “And even if it wasn’t safe, I would have stayed at John’s side because you need me to ferret out information.”

“I know,” Robert said with resignation. “Just be careful, sister.”

“I am careful,” Amicia responded with a wry smile. She was tempted to turn and look back at Guy and Megan, but she didn’t do that. “Nobody has ever managed to uncover me, except for one person.”

“And who knows the truth?” Robert’s voice was tense.

“Guy of Gisborne,” she answered.

Robert stopped abruptly, and his hand went to the hilt of his sheathed scimitar. He was now looking more apprehensive than alarmed. “What? Gisborne knows?” He glanced back, his eyes narrowing to slits at Guy. “I will have to silence him then.”

Guy frowned. “What do you want, Lord Leicester?” His hand automatically flew to his sword.

“What is going on?” Megan inquired hurriedly.

Amicia grabbed her brother’s arm to prevent him from drawing the sword. “You will do no such thing, Robert. You won’t harm Guy,” she said sternly. “When Guy discovered my true allegiances, he spared my life and let me go. He did nothing wrong to me and kept our secret, even though he was working for Lord Vaisey at that moment. We must be grateful to Guy.”

Robert reluctantly shifted his eyes to look into Guy of Gisborne’s face, his expression a tense mixture of animosity and suspicion. “What does my sister mean?” He glanced from Guy to her. “What are you talking about, Amicia? Why should we be grateful to this fiend, an embarrassment to all of his ancestors?”

Amicia glared at her brother. “Guy is not as bad as you think, Robert. As my brother, you owe him my life because he could have revealed to Prince John the truth and I could have already been dead.”

“It is true,” Guy confirmed. “I never said a word about Amicia’s true loyalties, even to Vaisey.”

Robert scrutinized Amicia, his chin rising to a determined angle. “Ah, it seems to me that I begin to understand why he spared your life, sister.” He looked between Amicia and Guy with contempt. “Pray tell me when you, Amicia, and this man shared a bed? Was it in Normandy when you were very young?”

Guy clenched his fists. He desperately wanted to punch Robert in the face and body until he succumbed and collapsed into a heap. Robert always taunted and insulted him in a multitude of ways, and he believed that his anger was completely justified as at its root lay the hatred that Robin’s friends had for him because of his past sins and because of their ignorance of the obvious changes in him. “Lord Leicester, I am sorry to disappoint you, but I think that it is our personal deal,” he affirmed, looking Robert in the eye.

“I don’t think that we should discuss it,” Megan entered the conversation.

“It is an old story,” Amicia said with the ring of finality in her tone. “Robert, why are you so stubborn to recognize that Guy is not that bad and vile?”

Guy sent Amicia a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Amicia.”

“You are welcome,” Amicia responded.

"I will never forgive Gisborne for the murder of my friends, and neither will Robin,” Robert declared coldly, his eyes darting between Amicia and Guy. “I have to say that I am pleased to learn such intimate facts about the two of you, although someone else won’t be happy to learn the truth. This person may think that you showed a callous disregard for their opinion.” He referred to King Richard who would be highly displeased with the news about Amicia’s affair with the former Black Knight who had tried to kill him twice.

Amicia gazed away. “I hope that you are not going to say to him the truth, brother.”

“Of course not, sister,” Robert pledged. “I will never do anything to hurt you.”

Megan realized whom Robert meant; Guy was confused, having no clue to what they were talking about. 

The closer they were to the River Thames, the more a dense fog enveloped them. On the way to the quay, they followed Robert who knew the road by heart and could never lose his way even in extreme weather conditions. On the bank of the river, behind the blind whiteness of the fog, they could barely see the contours of the boat fastened to the wharves and piers.

“Amicia, we should hurry,” Robert said as he stepped onto the boat.

“A minute, brother,” Amicia answered. Then she pulled Megan into her arms. “Meg, I know very well that you are a troublesome lady, and I hope that this time, you will be more cautious when some time ago, when you were captured by Lord Rotherham in Nottingham.”

Megan looked a little offended as she drew back from her friend. “I will be careful. No worries, Amicia.”

Amicia swung her gaze to Guy, giving him a flamboyant grin. But although she was smiling, her tone was strict and preaching when she addressed her former lover. “Guy, take care of Meg. She is a spirited angel and tends to court trouble. Don’t expose Megan to unnecessary dangers on your new mission.”

“You have my word,” Guy avouched with a smile.

“Gisborne,” Robert called in a rough voice, his eyes glittering so vividly, almost unnaturally, that Guy was able to see that even through the fog, “thank you for protecting my sister.”

“You are welcome, Lord Leicester,” Guy said flatly.

As Amicia stepped onto the boat, Robert rolled his sleeves over his forearms, and bent down to grab two oars. As Amicia settled herself in the boat comfortably, Robert pulled the oars with all his strength; the boat began to move slowly along the river, bouncing from the top of each small wave in the water. The two travelers blended with the fog, and soon the boat disappeared.

“It seems that Robert began to soften towards you,” Megan opined.

Guy snickered at her words, immediately regretting that he had expressed his feelings so openly. Megan frowned at him, but said nothing; when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “Meg, don’t be so naïve. Even if I break into Durnstein Castle and rescue King Richard, Robin’s friends will always despise me.”

“Never say never. One day you may find out that they are not as hostile towards you as they are now.”

He didn’t believe that Robin and his friends would ever change their attitude towards him from their righteous anger and resentment to appreciation and respect. But Megan was so optimistic, and he didn’t want to crush her hopes. With some effort, he was able to muster a smirk, although it felt tight against his teeth. “That will never happen, Meg, and I have little hope that they will ever accept me as one of them. I am their enemy who was pardoned only thanks to the heroic Robin Hood.”

“Never say never,” she reiterated. “They will probably never forget about your wrongdoings, but they may eventually forgive you.”

Guy stepped closer to Megan, and took her hands in his. “Meg, you understand me so well. There were very few people who were able to look through the facade of my coldness and callousness, and you are one of them.” He smiled at her. “I will never forget what you have done for me.”

Laughing at him, Megan placed a dainty hand on Guy's leather-clad chest, giving him an enticing smile of a coquette. “You still want to be my friend? But being a friend is a quick work, although bonds of friendship are a slow ripening fruit because they are more valuable than a desire to make friends.”

He chuckled. “Meg, are you still enjoying to tease me? Well, you are providing yourself with a good entertainment at my expense. And your dry humor and sense of wit remind me of Robin.”

She pursed her lips. “With the only difference that I never taunt and make jest of you.”

“I know, and I am grateful for that,” Guy said. “So can we be friends?”

Megan steeled herself against overpowering heartache. His words disappointed her: she wanted more than friendship from him, but he loved Marian. “Of course, we can.”

“Good. I will treasure our friendship.”

“And so will I.” Megan shivered as the cold wind, blowing from the river, swept over them.

“We should return to the manor. It is very cold here, near the Thames.”

She gave a nod. “I would not mind going back.”

“It is a good idea,” Guy assented. “I planned to have a late dinner with Marian, for she didn’t want to dine in the dining room either. She avoids Robin’s friends as well, especially Roger de Lacy.”

Megan shuddered inwardly; her heart seemed to freeze within her chest, and her breath left her for a moment. Guy again spoke about Marian, and that caused her much more pain than she wanted. Her affection for Guy was so deep that she feared that one day she would be unable to conceal her feelings. The dark, brooding knight, whom she had saved twice, exemplified many traits that she admired: he was handsome, intelligent, educated, and so very male, and she loved him for the caring attitude he displayed towards her, and for the tenderness not far beneath the surface.

Megan was so nervous that she suddenly blanched, and the whiteness of the fog made her look like a ghost. “Indeed, we should go.”

“Meg, how pale you have grown!” Guy cried out in alarm. “Are you alright?”

“There is no need to worry about me.” She plastered a smile on her face, hiding all of her insecurities and fears under a mask, the technique which she had learned at court in Poitiers. “You should go to Lady Marian and restore her peace of mind, which she needs so much after everything she went through.” She sighed helplessly. “I will talk to some of my old friends. I mean Roger de Lacy whom Marian dislikes so much.”

“Are you displeased with me, Meg?”

She laughed at his words. She was jealous, but she wasn’t going to give him a chance to see how much she was affected by him. “I am just tired, Guy.”

Guy looked up, at the sky. “The new storm is again gathering.”

Megan smiled. “When I was a little girl, I often watched storms. In Aquitaine, storms happen rarely. There is something really fabulous if you spend time sitting in the rain, of course only in warm weather.”

“Did you often spend time under the rain?”

A smile blossomed on Megan’s face as her mind drifted back to the happy days of her childhood. “Yes, I did. Although Amicia was older than me, we were very close, and she frequently took me to the forests of Poitou in rainy weather. We had our own shelter in a small cave, where we could sit for a long, long time, watching lightning flash in the sky and composing stories about ghosts.”

Guy smirked. “Ghosts?” She was really an unusual lady.

“Yes, Guy,” she said, casting a short look at the darkening sky. “We especially liked watching the rainbow after the rain; we could seat near one of the old trees, watching the rainbow changing its colors.”

“You have a great fantasy, Meg!”

“Surely, Guy.” She sighed and smiled moodily. “It was a golden time of my life, when I had no problems and no hardships. But the old days are gone. The old England is dead, and there is no way back.” He heard the deep regret in her voice. And then she laughed. “I found something magic in being under the rain.”

“Didn’t your father scold you after you returned from forests with ruined gowns?”

“Yes, he always did.”

 “I also have some heartwarming memories about rainy days,” Guy whispered reverently. “My mother liked a summer rain very much. She often took Isabella and me to one of her favorite places in Sherwood, in the outer circle of the forest; we watched the rainbow there.” He let out a short laugh. “It was an amusing sight to see Isabella staring at the sky as if she were watching something majestic happening.”

“Well, I am glad that you have some good memories of childhood.”

Guy emitted a chagrined sigh. “Only some.”

Megan stopped abruptly and clapped her hand to her heart. “Guy, please stop!”

His expression was befuddled. “What happened?” he asked as he paused near her.

“You are again slipping into melancholy. Do you really think that the self-torment you imposed on yourself is exactly what you need for redemption?”

Guy looked abashed. “What do you mean?”

She raised her chin, her gaze piercing his face. “Guy, you are dragging yourself into misery. You say that you don’t have good memories of childhood. You say that others hate you. You always remember Vaisey and hate yourself for serving him. You despise yourself for many things – too many things.”

He lowered his head, looking down on the brown earth. “You are correct.”

“Fool!” Megan said in a broken voice, her heart aching for Guy. “If you don’t stop hating yourself, you will never get complete redemption unless you change yourself more than you have already done!”

“I cannot forgive myself for many things, Meg.”

She took a step to him, looking into his eyes. “Hatred for yourself and forgiveness are different things,” she stated rhetorically. “Do you know why you will never atone if you don’t change?”

Guy shook his head. “No!”

“Guy, you have to believe in what you are doing now,” she admonished, her eyes both scolding and persuading him. “You have to believe that helping Robin to save the king and England is good and right and that it is necessary for the world! You have to believe that _your small contribution to Robin Hood’s fight for England and justice makes the world a better place_!”

“I am doing everything I can to save the king,” he said stubbornly. “I am doing the right thing.”

Megan nodded. “You are doing the right thing mostly for yourself – for your absolution.”

Guy was more confused than a minute ago. “I am helping Robin because…” He stopped himself.

“You joined Robin and his friends in their fight against Prince John for several reasons: King Richard pardoned you, and you owe our liege and Robin your life,” she finished for him. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Your guess is correct.”

Megan’s hand gripped Guy’s elbow. “Another reason is that you hope to redeem yourself by helping Robin.” She sighed. “Otherwise, you would have parted ways with Robin and his friends after they had rescued us in Nottingham.”

“I do want to save the king. I don’t want him dead.” It was true not only because Guy owed the king for a royal pardon, but also because he knew that Richard was his half-brother.

“Very good,” she replied. “Then I have something to tell you.”

“What, Meg?”

“Do you feel less worthless and more confident when you are helping Robin?”

Guy confessed, “I don’t feel as miserable as I felt before… when I worked for Vaisey and was imprisoned.”

Megan smiled; she achieved what she wanted. “It means that your current actions are helping you feel better and leave your past behind. You are doing this not only to get this nominal redemption – you are doing this for yourself and for making the world a better place, for if the world is safer and better, you feel content and have a better life. And that’s why you must stop hating yourself.”

A smiling Guy dipped his head in understanding. “I see where you are going.”

“Very well,” she drawled. “Now let’s go back to the manor.”

As they were walking along the River Thames, Guy watched the moonlight quivering upon the river. His gaze fell at Megan, and he thought that she was a beautiful, cultured, and passionate lady whom any man would be happy to have as his wife. He smiled at the thought that Marian and Megan had a lot in common – they both were strong, willful, and independent, so different from many other ordinary noblewomen.

He almost panted with agitation that he would see Marian again soon; he craved to talk to her, knowing that now Robin was unavailable and he could marry her after the king’s return. Yet, his heart skipped a beat at the thought that he probably somehow disappointed and, perhaps, even offended Megan. He found his feelings in complete disarray: he loved Marian as a man loves a woman who pushed him from darkness to light, but his relationship with Megan prophesied great things and boundless enjoinment for him.

Guy was pulled out of his musings by Megan’s voice as she started talking about their upcoming mission. He was grateful to Megan for engaging him in a business conversation, for he needed some distraction from his thoughts of Marian. He was excited to go on the mission and deprive Buckingham of the funds which the Black Knights planned to use against King Richard and his loyal supporters. He was grateful to Robin for giving him a chance to prove himself worthy of trust, and he intended to fully use the opportunity.

§§§

As he walked through empty corridors of the manor, Robin was smiling breezily; his heart was blossoming in delight. He was waiting for Melisende to come to him from London tonight, and he missed her and longed to see her again. Minutes were slipping away slowly, and he needed to fill in the waiting time. Wishing to drink a goblet of good wine, Robin left his bedchamber and went to the study, where the best wines, produced in the Loire Valley and Bordeaux, were kept by the Earl of Leicester.

Silence hung over the empty corridors, and only Robin’s footsteps echoed in the vastness of the corridor. Robin walked in the study and crossed the chamber; he stopped near a marble table where a decanter of wine and several silver goblets stood. He lit a candle, and a dim light flooded the room, casting shadows on the whitewashed walls. As he filled the goblet and brought it to his mouth, he froze as he heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor; he was amazed that someone was hurrying to the study at such a late hour.

The door flung open, and Marian appeared at the doorway. As her gaze fell on Robin, she felt a shiver running down her spine. “Robin,” she said almost breathless, her heart palpitating in her chest.

Smiling at her listlessly, Robin heaved a deep sigh. “Marian,” he called, his heart thundering in his chest.

“What are you doing here?” she inquired, struggling to keep her voice neutral.

He made a small sip of wine, his eyes never leaving Marian’s face. “I want to have some wine.”

“Ah, I see.” Her eyes traveled down his lithe frame enveloped in white flat trousers and white silk shirt. Her breath was caught in her throat at the sight of his charming smile. He was very handsome, and her heart began to leap within her chest for the joy she was finding in seeing him alive and so close to her.

“Don’t stand there and take a seat. There are many armchairs in this room.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She walked to one of the armchairs.

Robin’s eyes took in Marian’s appearance, and his heart started hammering harder. He made a quick perusal of Marian. She was no longer his fiancée, but he couldn’t help but admire her. Marian was very beautiful, seductive, and voluptuous, even though she was not as bewitching as Melisende. She was dressed in a dark green gown of fine muslin with long, close-fitting sleeves; it was one of the gowns which Melisende had sent to Marian after their departure from the Tower. Marian wore her long dark hair plaited into two loose braids, held in place by a gold band studded with green stones.

Looking at Marian, Robin knew for sure that part of him still loved her, but his feelings for her were not as strong as before. Yet, that part of his heart ached to be near her and talk to her, for she reminded him of everything he could have had before going to war. Yet, he wasn't going to let his old feelings resurrect.

They seated themselves in armchairs near a window, staring at each other closely in a friendly way.

With a cheeky grin on his face, Robin began, “I like your hair loose and flowing, not braided.”

Marian felt her cheeks flushing. “You are flattering me, Robin.”

He sipped wine and put the goblet at the table. His pale blue eyes moved appreciatively over her body, and then he flashed his familiar infuriating grin. “You are very beautiful, Marian. I guess if you had been allowed to leave the guests’ quarters in the Tower of London, every woman would have envied you.”

She looked momentarily embarrassed but quickly regained her composure. Then anger stirred in her proud heart, and she tossed her head, her lips jerking into a sneer. “I don’t need your compliments, Robin. You should give them to your wife, not to any other woman in the world. But you have always been a ladies man, so I am not astounded at all.”

His face turned into sadness, and Robin studied her closely. But Marian’s face was impassive, except for the small fake smile she gave him. If Robin could glance into her naked soul, he would have seen not only anger brewing in her heart, but also a twinge of guilt and regret.

A strand of sandy hair fell in a sweep over his forehead. “I have no intention to betray my marriage vows. I am an honest man, and I respect my wife. I will never do anything to hurt Melisende.”

She sighed with something like relief. “I am glad that you are content in your marriage.”

He sipped some wine. “So you remember what I told Guy and you in Imuiz?”

“I do,” she answered.

Robin emptied the goblet one and then refilled it. Sipping wine, he spoke. “I told you the truth, Marian: I am happy with Melisende, and I am very grateful to King Richard for arranging this marriage for me.”

Marian shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “You married so quickly after my wedding to Guy.”

He surveyed her face as if he were searching for something. After what seemed to be a very long pause, he laughed half contemptuously, half haughtily. “And what do you think I should have done after you married Gisborne? You didn’t invite me to your wedding, thinking that the presence of the notorious outlaw from Sherwood would probably embarrass Sir Guy of Gisborne, your dear and beloved husband.” A haughty grin splashed across his face, and he continued his verbal assault on her. “Ah, I beg your pardon! I have forgotten that Gisborne is my former enemy and your ex-husband!”

She felt his anger and his pain hidden in his poisonous bravado. No man could stand being made a fool by the woman he loved, and she did not only that – she did betray him. His anger was righteous, and she deserved to hear his words, but that anger stung her nevertheless. “Robin, I told you that I hadn’t understood what I was doing during the siege. I was sure that we were going to die, and you were not with me,” she ventured to explain, repeating what she had said before. She stilled for a moment and took a deep breath. When she went on, her voice was quivering with nerves. “I used to believe that I wasn’t afraid of death, but I was wrong. At those moments, fear gripped me so intensely that I felt as if someone were squeezing my heart. I was convinced that we wouldn’t survive the siege, and, thus, I married Guy.”

Robin had to repress his desire to roll his eyes in exasperation. “I still fail to understand why you couldn’t wait for me before marrying Gisborne. Did you believe so little in Robin Hood that you thought I would allow Sir Jasper of Ashton to raze Nottingham to the ground? I was searching for the sheriff, and I traversed the length and breadth of Sherwood, even though he disappeared without a trace!”

She dropped her head and was silent for a few heartbeats. “I feared that we would not survive the siege.”

He could see that she herself didn’t have an accurate answer as to why she had married Gisborne. An intense gleam lit his eyes, and he smiled sardonically. “Whatever pushed you to betray me that day, you should have talked to me at first if you hesitated to marry me. But you were not gracious enough to notify me that you didn’t want to be my wife, and, instead, you married Gisborne before breaking our engagement.”

Marian was chafing and fuming, but she tempered her anger. “Robin, you didn’t languish in loneliness for a long time. You married Lady Melisende in less than a year after my wedding to Guy!”

He grabbed his goblet and sipped wine. Then he launched another devastating verbal assault in a sarcastic tone. “Marian, you have always seemed to be a lady with sense; though not on the day of the siege. Did you think that I would mourn the loss of you during my whole life? I remember that you yourself wanted me to find someone else when we last talked before my departure to the Holy Land.”

She breathed out a sigh of exasperation; her ire was rising. His vehement sarcasm was grating at her nerves. “I told you the truth, Robin. I wished you to find a woman who would never question your choices and your unconditional loyalty to England and King Richard.”

Her words hurt him very much, and a frown formed between Robin's brows. “I did what you wanted me to do, Marian, and you should commend me for taking your advice to heart,” he said in a chilly tone. “I didn’t plan to marry anyone after you had willingly walked out of our betrothal. If King Richard hadn’t asked me to marry his cousin, I would have been a free man now.”

Marian felt a pang of headache course through her chest. The topic of Robin’s marriage made her feel guilty, for she remembered her betrayal of their love, and she still didn’t forgive herself for causing him so much pain. “You married Lady Melisende out of loyalty to the king, didn’t you?”

As there was no wine in the goblet, Robin placed it on the table. “Yes, it is true. Most importantly, I married a woman who loves me for who I am and never questions my choices, unlike you. At first, I was only attracted to my wife; but she was passionate and elicited passion from me, and I fell for her.”

His words angered Marian, but she steeled herself against her emotions. “Well, Lady Melisende and you are a good match. I am glad that you found your soulmate.”

Robin laughed, his laughter disrobing all the pain he had buried in the depths of his heart – the pain from Marian’s betrayal. “There was the time when I thought that you, Marian, were my soulmate. But now I doubt that there are soulmates in this world.”

“Robin,” Marian murmured, “there were days when I thought the same.”

He smiled dreamily as a sudden nostalgia gripped his heart. “Years ago, we were very young, and life was carefree and happy. We dreamt of the bright, happy future and our happy life at Locksley Manor, together with several blue-eyed children.” Then smile perished from his face. “But this time is over, and there is nothing we can do to go back in time. And I am not even sure whether I would have wanted to turn the hands of time back if I could have done that.”

“We were so happy before you went to Acre.” She released a deep sigh. “We were young and full of energy and dreams. Everything seemed bright and perfect. We had so many plans for a future, but nothing turned out as we planned and dreamt.” She trailed off, feeling the tightness in her chest. 

“We shattered all our dreams with our bare hands,” he finished for her, his voice trembling.

She looked at her with tears shimmering in her sapphire blue eyes. “Yes. You and I ruined everything from the old days, and later Vaisey broke our lives.”

Robin shuddered visibly as she mentioned Vaisey. “Vaisey… caused us irreparable damage.”

Marian regretted bringing the name of the villain into their conversation. All at once, her countenance shadowed with concern. “I am sorry, Robin. I should have never mentioned this man.”

He shook his head, signaling that she did nothing wrong. “It is alright. I already can speak about it.”

“We never were frank with one another,” Marian said regrettably.

“We were rarely frank with each other,” Robin amended. “But I have nobody to blame but myself. I was very reserved and secretive even with you, and it was my main mistake in our relationship.”

A look of amazement flashed across her face, swiftly changing into despair. In a moment, it was replaced by blankness as she vanquished her emotion. “I wasn’t always frank with you either. I should have told you that I was torn between Guy and you; that I doubted your desire to settle down.”

“I shouldn’t have allowed you to spy on Guy at the castle. I should have insisted on you leaving Nottingham and going to the estates of one of your cousins or my relatives.”

“You would have achieved nothing, Robin, and you know that.”

“You have always been fearless and stubborn, and that once enthralled me. There has always been something unusual in you, and it has always fascinated many men, including Guy and myself.”

Marian suddenly blushed, like girls blush in outbursts of feelings. “You exaggerate, Robin.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t; but it no longer matters.”

“Indeed, it doesn’t matter,” Marian echoed his words. She was relieved that they finally reached a point of mutual understanding, but she also regretted that it hadn’t happened earlier.

“It is too late, Marian,” he retorted. For a moment, a look of sympathy and love was plainly written across his face before he masked it with a cheeky grin. “It is too late.”

“I agree with you. Robin. It is really late for us, but I often think of old times,” Marian said after a brief silence. “My father always said that it was good to dream.”

Robin stifled a gasp. “I was a dreamer, but I don’t dream anymore.”

“And neither do I.” Marian smiled with a slow, languishing smile.

He grew thoughtful and serious. “Vaisey,” he hissed the word. “This hellspawn _destroyed everything in my life._ He not only oppressed the people in Nottingham, killed many innocents, and attempted regicide, but he also _broke the part of my heart that was untouched by the cruelty and harshness of the world._ ”

Marian winced at the bitterness in his tone and the raw pain in his eyes. “Robin, don’t think about it.”

Robin laughed morbidly. “I cannot always run away from my fears and burdens, like I did throughout many years.” His voice trembled with emotion. “After I returned from the Crusade, I still was a naïve young man, though disillusioned by war. Yet, I still believed that good always triumphs over evil and peace over war.” He laughed again, this time tragically. “But when Vaisey killed Robin Hood, he killed the part of my heart that dreamt of peace and equality, the part of my heart I treasured and wished to keep intact.”

Marian thought of the pain he must have endured during his recovery. She agreed with Djaq that God wanted Robin to leave, for, otherwise, he would have died in Imuiz. “The wound from Vaisey’s attack must have given you a great deal of pain – emotional and physical. But you are a strong man, and you will cope.”

Robin dragged a deep breath, feeling his scar throb in pain. “I will never forget this horror.”

She sighed heavily, and her heart almost collapsed in her chest. She wished to take away his pain, but she cannot permit herself to do that because it was not the right thing to do in their situation. “But you have to forget for England, for King Richard, for your wife, for your friends, for yourself, and for me.”

Robin reached out for his face, pressing his palms against his forehead, as if he were hoping to silence the voice in the back of his head that whispered to him over and over again something about his death. “I cannot forget, Marian. I am not as strong as you seem to believe.”

“Forgive me, Robin, if I said something wrong.”

He smiled at her. “There is nothing to forgive. I swear that everything was forgiven a long time ago,” he said emphatically. “I hope that you forgave me for betraying our young love and for leaving to fight a pointless war thousands of miles away from you, for breaking your tender heart, for disappointing you by letting you wait for me for so long, and for being selfish in my feelings for you as I didn’t want you to be around Guy, fearing that you were stirred by him and would probably leave me because of him.”

Marian gaped in amazement. For a while, she sat speechless and motionless, unable to believe in what she had just heard. He had probably never been as frank with her as he was at the moment, and she treasured that. “There is nothing to forgive, Robin.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Marian.”

She flushed and looked away. “You are welcome.”

An awkward silence stretched out between Marian and Robin. Their conversation resembled something strange: it was neither a light chat between former lovers and betrotheds, but also not a candid conversation between close friends. It was a conversation between two people who were meant to be together, but who eventually lost paths in their lives and missed each other at the crossroads, heading in different directions and searching for something they didn’t know and understand.

Robin glanced at Marian, his eyes seeming to penetrate too far into her thoughts. “Marian, it seems that you and I were not destined to be together,” he hazarded to announce.

“Yes. It seems to be true.”

“Now I don’t believe that there are soulmates. And even if they exist, it is foolish to say that one can wait a lifetime for his soulmate to come around. People eventually get sick of waiting, like you got sick of waiting for my return from the Crusade and then for the king’s return. They usually take a chance on someone and find their happiness in another marriage.”

“Robin, your death changed you so much,” she commented, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I have no illusions left,” he stressed, “with regards to private life and England as well.”

“And even with regards to Robin Hood’s cause?”

Robin paled, caught off-guard by her question. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“You no longer believe in a good fight?” She feared to hear the answer.

He sighed heavily, thinking whether he should proceed further, but then he decided to be utterly frank. “I have always realized that my fight was ultimately futile: I am only one man in England, and even with my band of merry men I can do only a few things. But I wanted to make a difference and to give people hope, and I fought for what I believed in.” His chest heaved with emotions, but he kept them deep inside of himself, releasing some tension in a sigh. “But my death… disillusioned me, and I no longer live in a world of dreams and hopes. Yet, there is part of me that believes in Robin Hood and wants to fight for peace.”

An eloquent pause followed as Marian and Robin looked at each other, silent and thoughtful.

Marian realized that Robin was different from the man who had departed to the Holy Land after her wedding to Guy. She knew what happened to him: he grew up and matured, and he was no longer a boy who had once chased after her across the fields near Locksley and in the forest. For the first time in many years, she saw how many hardships and burdens Robin had sustained. The changes in Robin’s character made her heart constrict in her chest, and a bittersweet dejectedness overwhelmed her.

The same happened to her during the months that followed Robin’s death. It seemed that they both had said farewell to the old happy days, and they no longer clung to the hope that one day everything would be as blissful as it had been before. They were ready to save the king, but there was no hope that Richard’s return would mean the resurrection of the old time. They no longer dreamt but lived in the harsh reality which they didn’t like. The old days were gone, and the old Robin and Marian had died in the Holy Land.

She thought that maybe she needed to have some time for herself. Too many things happened to her in the past months. She changed, and everything changed in her life, and she needed time to sort her thoughts out. She knew that if she had allowed herself to think about love and men in her life, it would hurt her a lot. Somehow, her general interests of the moment – her concern about Robin’s heath and Guy’s wellbeing, her worry about King Richard’s fate – surpassed her personal interests.

“I no longer have dreams,” she confessed. “Your death disillusioned me as well.”

“How?” Robin said drily, a little astonished with her questions.

“I see many things more clearly now,” Marian continued; there was a tremble in her voice, and Robin noticed it. “When you died, my hope for a better future died as well – my hopes for the return of the old days perished.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “When I thought that Guy was executed, I was in horror, and it hurt me a lot.” She paused again, her mind reeling. “But I understood that I could survive alone. Now I know that I am strong enough to live without you and Guy.”

To see that Robin was astounded would be an understatement. “Well, I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing, Robin,” Marian said in a whisper, her eyes fixed on him. “Once you were my world, but you went to the Holy Land and left me behind. I didn’t understand you, and you didn’t understand me.” She clenched her small fists as a wave of emotional pain assaulted her. “Your departure forced me to grow up very quickly because I needed to take care of the people of Nottingham and of my father, protecting them from Vaisey; but there was part of me that still belonged to childhood.”

“But my death killed this part of you,” he assumed.

She made a face, irritated. “Stop being such a conceited and arrogant fool who thinks that everything is centered on your great persona, Robin.” She broke into a taunting laugh. “And don’t pose as a sacrificial lamb in front of me, Robin. That sort of thing doesn’t work on me.”

Robin frowned. “I didn’t mean that.” He didn’t like that she became so harsh.

“Let’s suppose you didn’t,” she ceded.

“Agreed.” He pretended to be indifferent to her words.

“The loss of Guy and you disillusioned me,” Marian declared directly. “I have realized that I did many things I am ashamed of; I wronged both you and Guy.” She stilled for a moment, pondering over her next words. “The loss also made me stronger and more determined to fight, but not for Robin Hood’s cause – a mixture of people’s interests and the king’s interests, with the king’s interests prevailing. You know that I am right, although you tend to deny it in public.”

Robin scowled. “You want to say that I am more the king’s man than the people’s hero?”

“Yes. I know that you will never leave King Richard, especially given your relationship with him.”

“Well, perhaps.”

“Have the courage to admit that I am correct.”

He sighed. “Yes, you are right.”

“You are England’s man through and through, and I have accepted that,” she announced. “But I am different. I have my own cause – I want to fight for the people and to make their lives more bearable. After the king is released and returns to England, I am determined to fight for it.”

“I care about the people as well.”

“I don’t deny that you do care about the people. But if the king needs to be saved again, you will abandon the people and rush to our liege.”

Robin regarded her inquisitively, barely able to control himself. “You want to tell me again that I deserted my people twice when I went to the Holy Land?”

“I am just saying the truths which you don’t like, Robin.”

For a moment, Robin was quiet, thinking to tell her why he had gone to the Holy Land, to explain that he had noble reasons to participate in the Crusade; but the argument was wearing him out, and he wanted to leave. “Marian, you may fight for your own cause, but you should not be alone. You shall be happy; you can find your happiness with Guy or someone else.”

“To find happiness with Guy?” She echoed incredulously.

“And why not?

"You should not care about me now, Robin. You have no place in my life, and I don’t need you at all.”

He cursed in his mind, hot anger coursing through his veins. He loved her independence and courage, as well as the way she stood up to the rules of society and even to him, although he had never tried to bend her to his will. Yet, her last words enraged and simultaneously hurt him, but he wasn’t going to reveal his emotions to her. Instead, he burst out laughing, intending to hurt her in response.

“I know that I have no place in your life, and you have no place in mine. We went on separate paths for good,” Robin told Marian nonchalantly, his expression serious; but his heart pounded harder. “And yet, you saved my life from Prince John. I am grateful to you for that.”

“You also saved my life from Vaisey in Imuiz. Consider your debt to me repaid.”

He winced at her cold tone; if she wanted to infuriate him, she would get her comeuppance. “I am still grateful for your interference, but you shouldn’t have stood between Prince John and me. John could have killed you.” He lowered his voice. “You should have been more reasonable.”

Marian looked as if he had slapped her. “And you shouldn’t have mocked Prince John.”

“I did what I needed to do.”

“And I did the right thing,” she fired back.  “It took a risk of being killed, but I acted in your manner, Robin. Otherwise, there would be the fun in that?”

His anger was building as Marian had thrown his own words at him. “You should have stayed out of my deals, waiting on the balcony where Carter left you. You shouldn’t have placed yourself in danger.”

"If I stayed away, England and King Richard could have lost you. I had to act and save you.”

“So you saved me for England and the king?” he asked innocently. His audacious grin covered an ever-rising anxiety.

“Of course.” She lied, and they both knew that.

“Then I will ask King Richard to reward you for your heroics, when he comes back to England.”

"I don’t need any reward.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t refuse. You may use this reward to help the people.”

Marian’s heart skipped and fell flat. His statement made her angry beyond measure; unreasonably angry. Robin was the only man who could have made her entirely happy and then crushed all her mood with a single word. It ended as always: they argued and quarreled, but, in the end, they reconciled and forgave each other, and this time she knew that they would forget about this quarrel as well. They changed a great deal, but something in them still remained untouched.

“Robin, don’t you need to go back to your quarters?” She gestured towards the door.

Robin jumped to his feet, and made a mocking bow to her. “Indeed, I have to leave. Robert will bring Melisende from London soon. Maybe she is already here.”

“Goodnight, Robin.” She took a deep breath and managed to drag her eyes away from his face.

He paused at the doorway, looking at her with eyes full of sadness. “Marian, I promised you that I would forget you before my second departure to Acre,” he confessed. “But I was mistaken because nobody could forget a woman like you; because forgetting you means saying farewell to my youth and the small part of my young soul that I still have and want to keep intact.” Then he turned around and walked out of the study.

At the sound of the closing door, Marian lowered her head and dissolved into tears. Darkness was closing in around her, threatening her meager existence. So much had happened in her life that she feared to break if more calamities befell her. Her last misfortune was her disillusionment, and in that she was similar to Robin. Now she was weeping for the loss of her old life, her dreams, and Robin.

“I love you, Robin,” Marian whispered to herself, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.

Marian loved Robin as only a noble, kind-hearted, trusting, and self-sacrificing soul can love. He no longer belonged to her, but she loved him as much as she knew he deserved to be loved; as much as she had loved him in her early youth; as much as she would always love him. Marian no longer had a shadow of doubt that _Robin of Locksley was the love of her life_ and that she loved him with a crowning mystery of love transcending in its strength all sorrows, grievances, afflictions, and fears in her life. In retrospect, Marian concluded that she did love Guy of Gisborne in her own way, but she no longer felt the same for him; now, after his death and return, she loved Robin more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> This chapter was transitional between the battles which Robin, Guy, and others fight against Prince John and the Black Knights. Robin has been incapacitated for some time, and in this chapter he is recovering. This chapter was necessary for Robin, Guy, Marian, and Megan to sort out their minds, to shed some tears, and to mourn their losses – the losses of their dreams and connections to the old England and the old days. The old days are gone, and now each of them understands that very well.
> 
> Marian and Guy have a conversation about their private life and their future. Marian does love Robin, but she doesn’t want to hurt Guy and tells him nothing when he asks her about her feelings for Robin. She truly believes that she might be not a marrying type; in canon, she said that once in one of the episodes in S1. I think that Marian is a strong woman, and she can live without a man in her life. In the show, she often comes across as woman who doesn’t want to lose her independency at all.
> 
> You already know that Marian loves Robin more than Guy, and I apologize if that displeases some of the readers. I suspect that Guy/Marian shippers are not happy, and I want to warn you that she is not going to fall out of love with Robin. At first, I planned to ship Guy and Marian in the end of this long epic. But this story is very long, and it took me several years to finish writing it. My opinion about pairings was changing as I was maturing, and last year I found myself unable to give Guy and Marian a happily ever after (but maybe they will have a bittersweet ending, but Guy will be happy). Marian and Guy are a doomed pairing, and I think that Marian is better with Robin than with Guy; this is my personal opinion, and you don’t have to share it. You will have to wait and see whether Marian ends up with Robin, alone, dead, or perhaps even with Guy under unusual circumstances.
> 
> Marian and Robin have a heart-to-heart conversation. At last, they face one another after Robin’s return and after the salvation of his life by Marian in the Tower! They both know that they still love each other, but they prefer to pretend that they can live ignoring their feelings. Marian again claims that she is strong enough to be alone, without Robin. Robin says that there are no soulmates on earth and points out that he no longer believes that soulmates exist. Maybe Robin and Marian will end up together, or maybe not; now Robin is a married man who loves his wife and has a son.
> 
> Robin’s conversation with Marian is sad and heartrending as they open up to one another and talk about the old days, their feelings and mistakes, and the past. They are disillusioned, and they no longer can dream. Robin is more disillusioned than Marian, which is the direct consequence of death for him. The world has become too dark for Robin to simply enjoy his life and turn a blind eye to the things he idealized before his demise in Imuiz. “Fight for Peace” is more tragic for Robin than the two parts of this log epic. But Robin will find his peace in the very end, and in the epilogue he will be a happy man.
> 
> Guy is developing feelings for Megan. There will be several more chapters devoted to Guy and Megan. Megan counsels Guy what he should do to get his redemption. Guy is not Robin, and he doesn’t fight for justice and peace; Robin’s fight is not his fight, and initially Guy joined Robin because he was grateful to the king for his pardon. But now things are going to change thanks to Megan’s positive influence on Guy. I deliberately portrayed Megan as a wiser and more mature person than the canonical character.
> 
> Robin is not intending to lead the next mission because he is still feeling unwell. Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan are going to steal the treasure from the Earl of Buckingham. Now Guy has a chance to prove to everyone that he has changed and will never betray King Richard again.


	8. The Old and New Flames

**Chapter 8**

**The Old and New Flames**

Marian felt her body shuddering as she allowed tears to continue falling. Suddenly, she felt two strong arms pulled her upright, and then she was wrapped in a warm, comforting embrace, pressed tightly against a firm chest. She lifted her tear-stained eyes timidly, and her gaze locked with Guy’s, his eyes full of concern. Her expression turned from surprise to recognition. She again marveled at his handsome features; he was attractive in a dark and male sort of way, with his virile face revealing his strength and determination, unlike Robin with his boyish and youthful handsome features.

As if a terrible grief had consumed her, Marian couldn't suppress the shudder that rippled through her. Painfully aware of being in the arms of her former husband, she felt her self-control slipping away, finding herself unable to fight off fresh tears that spilled from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks in a steady stream. Her sobs were loud and soul-stirring, and they were coming from deep within her. All this time, Guy held Marian close, listening to her wild heartbeat as she cried until she had no tears left.

As she was still shivering in his embrace, Guy pressed her more tightly to himself. “Are you cold, Marian?” He brushed away her tears with the back of his palm.

She sighed deeply. “No.”

He placed a finger beneath her chin and raised it so that he could gaze into her eyes. “I saw Robin in the corridor. I know that he was here,” he began cautiously. “Did he hurt you? Did he distress you in any way?”

Anger flared up in Marian's heart, burning like a hot fire, and she was exceedingly incensed against Guy. But her ire quickly extinguished, superseded by sarcasm. “Guy, your humor is a good surprise, but you are not skilled at battles of wits.” She freed herself from his embrace and stepped back before he could stop her. Staring at him, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and continued acidly, “Why do you think that Robin hurt me somehow? Can an honorable and gallant man like Robin ever hurt a woman physically? I have always felt safer with Robin than with you, Guy. He has always been less intemperate and more stable than you. Our interactions with you have always been full of danger.”

The ire rose in Guy, and he was quiet for a long time, struggling to ward off the urge to shake Marian roughly for her verbal attack on him. She was another person who always won in their verbal combats, and it was one of the things which exasperated him in her to a great degree. Letting out a sigh of frustration, he spoke with fake calmness. “Well, I think it is obvious, Marian. You are crying and look despondent.”

She calmed down, and her tears began to dry. “Robin and I had an interesting conversation about life.”

His brows shot up in curiosity. “About life?”

“Yes.”

“And why did this chat sadden you?”

After a prolonged silence, she admitted, “You were right that Robin changed after his death, and he is still changing.” Forcing a quiver out of her voice, she added, “He is not the Robin of old times.”

Guy smirked. “I told you that several days ago, and you didn’t sound sad at that moment.” He paused, thinking; his curiosity piqued. “What happened between the two of you?”

Marian turned away from Guy, staring into the flames of two candles that had already burnt almost to stubs; she needed a moment to ponder over her life and choices she could make now. She sensed Guy's movement as he stepped away from her, and in a moment, soft candlelight lit the room, illuminating the room and pushing back the darkness of night, as Guy lit more candles.

“What happened between you and Robin?” he repeated his question as he stopped beside Marian.

She turned slowly to him. If frankness was what he wanted, she would give it to him; she had often lied to him to serve the cause, but she no longer wanted to do that. “Robin said that we were destined to miss each other at the crossroads and that he is content in his marriage; then he said that he had lost his dreams.”

“He did the right thing, Marian,” he asserted after a long pause.

Marian’s eyes again filled with tears, and she brushed them away from her cheeks. “I know that he did the right thing,” she agreed, her expression pained. “To his credit, he was utterly frank and honest.”

A scowl worked its way on Guy's face. “And what did you want from Robin, Marian?” His next words had a hint of some presageful feeling creeping into his mind. “Do you want him to take you as his mistress despite the fact that he is married? Will you accept this arrangement if he offers it to you?”

Marian glowered at him, and her chin rose defiantly. “What are you talking about, Guy? How can you say such appalling things about Robin? He is an honorable man, and he will never do that, even though he faces a dilemma of the heart.”

Guy shot her a disgruntled glance. Marian had just admitted that Robin still had feelings for her! He had suspected that the leader of the merry men still loved his former wife, but he needed proof; now he had it. “So, Marian _, the great Robin Hood still loves the former Maid Marian_?” he mocked, his lips curled into a derisive sneer. “It seems that the hero of the desert sands and the woods loves his wife and his former twice betrothed. Robin Hood, an England’s finest hero and an Englishman through and through, should adopt a Saracen practice of having multiple wives! I know enough of the world, and I have lost the capacity of being much surprised by anything, and I won’t be amazed if the two lovebirds end up in bed tonight.”

Marian swiftly closed the distance between them, and gave him a resounding slap across the face. “Congratulations, Guy of Gisborne! Sometimes you can be as sarcastic as Robin, which surprises me a lot. But you chose the wrong moment for demonstrating your wit!” she hissed between set teeth. “I will never allow you to insult Robin and slander his honest and good name in his presence or behind his back!”

He shoved her against a nearby wall, and put his hands on either side of her waist, caging her in. “Marian, once I told you that you should never hit a man, especially not your husband and a man who has feelings for you,” he growled, his eyes locked with hers and filled with rage. “You have been manipulating me and my feelings for so long while feeding your lover information during your strolls and rides in the greenwood! You have been using me for so long, not thinking that you were hurting me!”

She was feeling his hot, angry breath on her skin. “It was not difficult at all, Guy,” she responded with a tyrannical smile; her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed. “You were so cruel, wealth-driven, and power-hungry, and you carried out many sordid commands of your former master, Vaisey. I tried to help you find the right path; but I failed, and we went to the Holy Land, where you again attempted regicide.”

“I didn’t kill the king, and I didn’t stab Robin,” he grumbled, his eyes flashing with anger.

For a moment, Marian and Guy were staring into each other’s eyes, and an electric, dangerous current passed between them. She was still pinned to the wall, and he was breathing heavily into her face.

The old flames began to leap up and nibble away at her body, lingering echoes of physical desire anchored not in romantic love but in the deep sympathy and friendly affection that she had long felt towards Guy. She also felt the guilt for lashing out at him and for lying to him many times in the past. Her old feelings for Guy had been as devastating as a hurricane, and now she found herself fully aware, again, that she had never loved Guy as deeply as she always loved Robin. She learned not to dread him and now felt relatively safe with him, but she didn’t learn to love him like she loved Robin.

Guy, too, was inflamed with a passion that sent tiny bubbles of insanity cascading through him. He craved to be one with her out of jealousy and possessiveness, although part of him still loved her. Suddenly, Megan’s face resurfaced in his mind, and his heart pounded harder, in a mixture of affection, desire, and closeness he felt existed between him and Megan. A thought occurred to him: Marian was no longer the symbol of his future life which comprised peace, love, and morality, but Megan was.

Banishing thoughts about Megan from his head, Guy broke the silence. “I regret that I did so many bad things, Marian. I don’t deny that you tried to make me stop serving Vaisey. Eventually, you gave me a sort of redemption, pushing me to the right side.” A grimace contorted his face. “But you always preferred Robin to me! You manipulated me and played a fool of me while laughing at me and at my naivety with Hood.” He was so angry that he had again started referring to Robin by the old nickname.

His words sobered her in a way nothing else could have, and her guilty sensations evaporated. “Robin and I have never laughed at you,” she countered, glaring at him fiercely. “I thought that you had begun to understand Robin better, but I was mistaken. I don’t deny that I did manipulate you, but Robin didn’t.”

He realized that his statement was ridiculous. “I am sorry for my words about Robin.”

“You are excused.” A sad smile tugged at her lips, along with a flicker of relief that he stopped blaming Robin for her actions. “You have to understand that I was at the crossroads, Guy. I had to manipulate you and spy on you because I needed information for Robin who saved those whom the sheriff and you oppressed, hunted, and tortured. I didn’t want to deceive and hurt you, but I had to do that… for the cause.”

His lips compressed into a firm line. “I know that you toyed with me for Robin Hood’s cause and for the people whom you wanted to protect. But was there another reason for your lies?”

Marian believed that she owed him the truth. “I wanted to protect Robin from your hatred as well.”

Her confession left Guy breathless, confused, and hurting. He slowly relinquished his hold on her and stepped aside. “I can hardly entertain such a thing that you tricked me into marriage, so that you could be close to Vaisey and me and could gather intelligence in the castle more easily. Was that so, Marian?”

She rearranged her skirts and walked to a chair near a window. “Do you think that I would have stooped so low as to marry you only to help Robin?” she asked him, shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you really believe that I would have married you and caused Robin so much pain if I felt nothing for you?”

Guy sighed with relief; her words were a balm to his heart. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“And I am sorry for slapping you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He settled in a chair in front of her. “Then it is settled.”

She didn’t smile as she said quietly, “Yes.” As her mind reverted to her meeting with Robin in the study, fresh tears sprang into her eyes. “Guy, why are you always jealous of me to Robin? Why are you always recalling my romance with him?” She raised her voice. “Don’t you understand that there is nothing between Robin and me?” She shut her eyes for a moment, sighing grievously. “It is over! Completely over!”

Now Guy wanted to shake Marian, to make her listen to him. He struggled to keep his emotions at bay. “I accepted your past with Robin,” he announced. “And I know why now you are crying. The official end of your relationship with Robin means the end of the old days. Am I right?”

“Yes.” She nodded, letting out a doleful laugh. “It would have been better if Robin hadn’t been so direct and cruel in his honesty.” She laughed again, at the hopelessness of the situation she found herself in – she would never be with Robin again. “It would have been better if he had been an arrogant cheeky rogue who is unable to feel deeply and to be serious and responsible.” She sighed. “I have always known that he is a noble-hearted and great man. And now I see clearly how many things I didn’t know about him.”

Guy didn’t know what to feel – either the relief that Marian’s relationship with Robin was over or the anger that her feelings for his former enemy were as powerful as before. He was older than her, and he knew how painful it could be to finally understand that part of one’s life is gone beyond retrieve. “Well, maybe you are right, and Robin should have behaved differently; perhaps, more mischievous and less honest.”

“Maybe he should,” she agreed.

“Young Robin misbehaved very often, and he was criticized for that by many nobles in Nottinghamshire,” he reminisced, smiling in spite of himself. “My mother liked Robin a lot, but she always said that Robin misbehaved because Robin’s father spoiled him in the extreme. She also said that Robin was deprived of motherly love, being an orphan since his birth.”

“Your mother was correct. Robin’s real mother was imprisoned for many years, and even if she wasn’t, she couldn’t have taken care of him. And the woman Robin called his mother died in childbirth.”

“I don’t envy Robin’s true lineage. It is such a dark and critical secret that it must be kept from everyone and the world forever. Otherwise, many people will die in a bloody civil war.”

Her heart grew apprehensive. “You and I also became the unwilling keepers of this dark mystery. If we ever open our mouths, King Richard will simply kill us; our deaths will look like accidents.”

“I have no doubt that the king can easily get rid of us.”

Marian coughed nervously. “But it is no longer a secret for Prince John.”

Guy felt a lump form in his throat. “How could that happen? He cannot know the truth!”

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know how Prince John learned everything, Guy. Yet, it was the reason why he attacked Robin and was so resolute to kill him.” She stared at the window and noticed that the rain had started again, and before long was going to become a full thunderstorm. “But I stood between Robin and John, and I heard their conversation.”

“Damn Prince John!” Guy cursed, his voice exuding controlled rage. “It is ill-omened.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

Despite his earlier nasty talk about Robin, Guy found himself feeling deeply concerned about Robin’s fate. “Then Robin’s life is in grave danger! The prince may try to kill Robin again! He has been looking for the Queen Mother’s golden boy for so long that now he will be adamant about killing Robin.”

“I hope that Lady Melisende will stop Prince John from making more attempts on Robin’s life.”

Guy looked amazed. “Why do you think so?”

She couldn’t reveal to Guy the truth. “Don’t ask me about that. It is not my secret.”

“By the way, Lady Melisende asked me to protect Robin.” He sighed, a useless release of breath that did nothing to assuage his concerns and make him feel comfortable. He smiled. “She begins to trust me.”

Marian shook her head in disagreement. “Lady Melisende doesn’t trust you. She trusts nobody, apart from several people in her closest entourage. She simply knows that you owe King Richard for your pardon, and that’s why she knows that you will never betray Richard again. And if you have no motive to betray our liege, then she can ask you to protect Robin for the king and for England.”

He thought that she was very beautiful even in her distressed state. “I believe that your guess is correct. She is as practical as King Richard; there is something similar in their characters.”

“Lord Leicester calls them _a lion and a lionet_ ,” she remembered.

He chuckled. “What a precise description of them!”

“I am very glad that Robin is content in his marriage.”

After a long, suspenseful silence, Guy decided that it was time to say what he wanted to tell her today. “Marian, I know that many things changed in your life and between you and me. I know that you have changed. You have become stronger and more mature, and you think that you can be alone, but you know in your heart that it is wrong to deprive yourself of love.”

Marian sighed. “I once told Robin that you were deprived of love. He didn’t understand me back then.”

“When did it happen?”

“Before our first wedding; a few days before I left you at the altar.”

Memories of that day flooded Guy, and a fatal sense of worthlessness pervaded his entire being. It was a painful experience and yet a cathartic one because he had become aware at that moment that Marian hadn’t wanted to be with him. But then she had worked her way back into his good graces by giving him enticing smiles and offering her friendship to him, and he had begun to hope again that he could win her heart. When she had been shielding the wounded King Richard from him, it had been the moment in the courtyard when, for the first time in his life, disillusionment had come over him, like something cold and intensive, as the veil had been taken from his eyes and he had seen Marian in a new light.

“I was so delusional,” he said in a voice that was like a lament. “I didn’t want to believe that you rode off from Locksley on Robin Hood’s horse. I killed the guard who gave me that report.” He heaved a sigh. “Now I understand that I made myself believe that that man was lying because the truth was too painful for me.”

Guilt prickled Marian’s skin. “That man died because of me.”

Guy shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself. I didn’t kill him – I did.”

A chagrined Marian declared in a quavering voice, “Maybe I should have promised myself to the Lord instead of having a romance with Robin and marrying you. After Robin‘s return from the Crusade, I thought of joining a convent. I often think that I am better on my own or with God than with someone else.”

He gave her a startled look. “Marian, you cannot be serious.”

Her evocative smile nearly made his heart stop. “And yet, I am.”

“No,” he objected.

“Yes. If I joined a nunnery a while ago, I wouldn’t have hurt both Robin and you.”

“You are wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” she insisted.

Guy rose to his feet and took a step towards Marian’s chair. Looking down at her, he pulled her to her feet and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Marian, you deserve to be happy and to have a family and a husband who can take care of you and provide for you. Richard pardoned me and reinstated the Gisborne lands on my name; after our liege comes back home, I will be able to reclaim them for you and for me.”

“Happiness is not in lands and wealth. I thought that you had learned some important truths.”

“I did,” he said truthfully. “I want to marry you upon the king’s return if you wish to wait.”

Marian wasn’t thrilled at the thought of losing her recently acquired freedom, and she didn’t want to marry Guy, but she didn’t want to disappoint him. “You want to spend the rest of your life with a woman whom you don’t know and who hurt you a lot in the past.” She paused, giving him time to mull over her words. “Are you sure that you really know me and are willing to take the risk of marrying me, Guy?”

“Don’t say that,” he beseeched. “Don’t say that, please.”

“I won’t speak if you don’t wish to listen.” A voice in the back of her head was incessantly repeating that she had to tell him that Robin was her true love, but she didn’t want to cause him that pain.

Guy lowered his mouth and kissed Marian ravenously, his lips hot and demanding, but she didn’t kiss him back and didn’t move, feeling his hands sliding down her back and pressing her against his hardening loins. She felt only a bittersweet melancholy in his arms, as if night air had cooled off her feelings for him, everyone, and the world. Kissing his former wife and feeling her closed, firm lips beneath his mouth, Guy felt that she didn’t want him because she was distressed, although, at the bottom of his soul, he realized that there was no way back to Marian, and maybe he didn’t want to go back to her.

Guy and Marian didn’t see Megan standing at the doorway holding a candle in her hands. Suffering from insomnia, she had decided to go to the study and have a glass of delicious wine from King Richard’s collection. Having grown up in Aquitaine at Prince Richard’s court, she had exquisite taste in wines, and she couldn’t drink the appalling wines at Prince John’s court. Now Megan regretted coming downstairs.

For a brief moment, Megan stood frozen, rendered in a state of heartbreak and devastation. As she saw Guy kissing Marian, she felt her heart breaking into many intangible pieces, and a scathing pain coursed through her soul. She bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming in anger at herself that she, a young foolish maiden, had allowed herself to cherish her friendship with Guy. Megan loved Guy unconditionally and deeply, too deeply to move on without looking back, and she was sure that he was the love of her life. But there was no way he would ever return her affection over the course of time. She spun around and hastened to leave the place, craving to find refuge in the somber loneliness of her bedchamber.

Marian disentangled herself from Guy’s embrace and stepped aside. “Guy, please don’t–” She wanted to ask him not to kiss her again, but he interrupted her and took her hand in his.

Gazing into her eyes, Guy repeated his question, “Will you marry me again?”

There was only one thing that could distract Guy from the matters of the heart. “First things first, as I told you a few days ago. Now we must concentrate on getting the king out of captivity.” She hoped that soon he himself would realize that she didn’t love him and that they were doomed if they married again.

He sighed. “We will do as you wish, Marian.”

Marian excused herself and retired to her bedroom, and Guy went to his own chamber. Meanwhile, Megan was weeping in her room, her heart writhing as waves of tearing pain passed through it. Outside a thunderstorm was raging; inside, a storm of emotions was blowing inside of Marian, Guy, and Megan.

§§§

Robin of Locksley was definitely happier than Megan, Marian, and Guy. He was not alone in his spacious bedchamber that was furnished with an elaborately carved, canopied bed, with several tapestried chairs and two little tables, and with a cabinet that he ordinarily kept his correspondence with King Richard’s spies whom he was regularly in touch with. Although while being in the Holy Land he had gotten accustomed to more luxurious living conditions than he had had in the woods, Robin still preferred simplicity and could live in Spartan conditions; he liked that the interior in his room was simple and not garish.

Robert de Beaumont returned to Greenwich in two hours after he had taken Amicia back to London and to the Tower of London. They had decided that Amicia would continue conducting reconnaissance in the Tower and would try to learn more about Prince John’s plots. Returning to Greenwich, Robert had brought to the manor Lady Melisende Plantagenet, Robin’s wife, who finally came to visit her husband, choosing the convenient moment when her absence couldn’t arouse suspicions and talks; she arrived in alone, not being accompanied even by Lady Catherine de Mathefelon, her most loyal lady-in-waiting.

A blissful stillness reigned in Robin’s bedchamber. Moonlight leaked into the room through two windows that faced the garden and the surrounding greenwood; nightingales sang outside in the thicket, and frogs croaked in a nearby swamp. Robin and Melisende stood nude near the bed, looking at each other, and a burgundy-colored passion was simmering between them as their blood was thickening with desire. In the orange candlelight, amid the walls hung with richly embroidered, multicolored tapestries, their silhouettes looked incredibly unusual – tall and whitish in a beam of the moonlight.

Robin bent his head and kissed Melisende on the lips. She responded to his kiss ardently, flinging her arms around his neck, and his arms encircled her back. He deepened the kiss, savoring her fully and salaciously, exploring the lascivious cavern of her mouth with his tongue; his left hand moved to the nape of her head while the other rested on her bare back.

Robin broke the kiss and glanced into his wife’s violet eyes, his own eyes glowing with red-hot passion. “I have been waiting for you to come here for more than a week. Why did it take you so long to come?”

Melisende smiled with a slow, enchanting smile that always sent Robin’s heart to race. “I had to stay in the Tower to handle and watch John.” Her nails bit into his chest playfully. “Amicia and I were collecting information about Richard. She should have told you everything we learned.”

“She shared your findings with us.”

“I have missed you so much, Robin. If I could, I would have left the Tower with you, but I couldn’t.”

“You are very talkative, and I am not prone to talking.” He started kissing her earlobe and the sensitive spot behind it. “I have missed you, too, my dear wife. And now my imagination is running very wild,” he whispered into her ear.

“I also miss our son, our little Richard,” she purred.

He drew back slightly, gazing into her eyes dazed with passion. “I also want to be with our son.” His fingers glided over the tangled mass of her luscious red-gold hair, and drifted downward along her temple to her cheekbone. “I want us to live together as a family where you want, my love.”

Melisende flushed and looked away. What was wrong with her? Robin was her husband, and he desired her, but her heart was overwhelmed with fear of losing him to Marian. And there was also the document she was going to show Robin tonight. “I do want us to be together the most. Where do you want us to live?”

Robin didn’t know what to say. Part of his heart still belonged to Marian, and he didn’t wish to tempt the devil, knowing that he still wanted his former betrothed as a woman. He was an honest man and genuinely loved his wife and his son, and so it was better to be as far from Marian as possible. Brushing away a strand of red-gold hair from Melisende’s forehead, he murmured huskily, “I think that we should live in Aquitaine, in one of your estates. It would be better for my health because the climate there is mild in wintertime.”

A look of concern flashed across her face. “Does the healed wound still pain you?”

“Your doctor helped me recuperate. I rested for more than a week, and now I am feeling much better. The scar still pains me when the weather becomes colder and damper.”

Melisende looked down, at Robin’s stomach, her eyes taking in the middle-length, puckered scar that ran from the lower part of his stomach downward, the result of the nearly fatal wound Vaisey had inflicted on him in Imuiz. The scar and the surrounding area were slightly red color amid Robin’s pale skin, and her heart convulsed with pain at the thought of his death.

Robin took a step back as she tried to cover his scar with her palm. “Please, don’t do that.” 

“Robin,” she called softly.

“I hate this scar.” Ignoring her pleading gaze, he stepped back again.

Melisende sighed and bounced ahead like a whippet, landing next to him. She lowered her hand to his abdomen again. “Robin, are you going to play with me in a hide and seek game?”

At the moment, Robin looked like a frightened boy, embarrassed and vulnerable. “I don’t want you to see and touch this scar. It reminds me of the things I want to forget.”

“My Robin,” she used a more intimate endearment.

Robin sighed. “I am sorry… I…” His voice came to a halt.

Tears filled her eyes as she put a hand on his stomach. However, he brushed her hand off and took a step back; he averted his eyes, unable to look into her face.

“For what are you sorry, my love?” Her voice was as gentle as a caressing summer breeze.

He denuded his heart, “I cannot bear even to think that someone touches me there. When I look at this scar and think of the regicide in Imuiz, I feel as if I were burning from the inside out.”

“Robin, look at me,” she requested in the same silken voice.

Robin obeyed, albeit reluctantly. “I cannot look at this scar,” he reiterated.

Melisende shook her head disapprovingly. “I know that you don’t want to remember your death.” She smiled. “But, my little bird, you have become the hero in Imuiz – the hero who saved England and his king who is also his brother! And you would have been handsome with two hundred more scars!”

He sighed absently, rubbing his stubble. “Maybe.”

“Robin, I will give you one advice.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “What, my lionet?”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. “These scars are sacred because you took your wounds for England and for Richard.” She lightly touched his scar on his stomach, and this time, he let her do that; then she put her hand on his scar, covering it completely with her palm. “These scars make you the man you are – Robin Hood, Robin of Locksley, and simply Robin. They make you a great man.”

He smiled with a benedictive smile. “Thank you.”

She grinned naughtily. “Maybe we will run away from your fears together? You would feel better then.”

He figured out her hint, and his face split into a wicked grin. “I always feel good when you are close to me, Melisende.” His finger traced her jaw line and her lips. “I feel so good that if I had wings, like birds, I would have soared in the air.” Leaning forward and engulfing her in the cocoon of his arms, he kissed her chin and followed the cord of her neck down to the hollow of her throat. “I know you like being with me.”

“But only if you let me love all of you – with all your scars and fears,” she cooed.

A short and light silence ensued. And then Robin spoke, there was laughter in his voice. “Well, you know what to say to tempt me, my love. What are you offering me now?”

She sent him a loving smile. “Myself,” she said huskily.

Melisende crushed her lips on Robin’s, kissing him yearningly and thoroughly, enjoying the feeling of his stubble scratching against her skin. But they wanted more than simple touches and kisses – they wanted and needed one another with despair and ardor that matched the storm raging outside. They both wanted one another so much that they were ready to demand something more urgent and more passionate than this slow torment. They kissed until they felt their bodies trembling with desire.

He slowly broke away from her lips, and whispered, “I want you now. Now!”

Looking at his face clouded with desire and into his eyes filled with lust and love, Melisende smiled. She lived simply by her love for him – obsessive and absolute love that ran deeper than a bottomless ocean, and no matter how far she dived into it, she always felt like she was just scratching the surface. Her love for Robin seemed to be infinite, and it was painful to know that he loved both Marian and her.

Melisende asked him in a vulnerable voice, “Do you still love me, Robin?”

Cupping her face with his hands, he murmured in an enamored voice, “I love you.” A groan rumbled in his throat. “I don’t want to ever let you go.” And it was true: he wanted his wife in his bed forever.

Their mouths glued in a long, heated kiss, they made their way to the bed and tumbled there. Leaning over Melisende, Robin kissed her shoulders, then lowered his head and took one of her full nipples into his mouth. His dexterous hands caressed her breasts and the curves of her voluptuous body. He heard her gasp and moan as he continued his sensual assault, and when he glanced at her face, she was smiling seductively at him; then her arms encircled his back, and she drew him to her for a possessive and deep kiss.

Her passionate reactions to his caresses drove Robin to madness, and he felt that he couldn’t wait longer. His gaze held hers as he slowly filled her, groaning quietly and taking her mouth with his. Robin felt his scar throb slightly as he moved inside of her, but he didn’t pay attention to that because he wanted her desperately. His pale blue eyes were dark blue, like the stormy depths of a sea, as he drove into her again and again, and she lifted her hips to feel him deeper. They moved in unison until their bodies quivered and tightened, the world burst into a million bits of bliss, and they cried out in pleasure; their simultaneous release was lingering and exploding, jolting them with the force of it.

As she lay in Robin’s arms later, Melisende thought that she was the happiest woman on earth because she was married to Robin Hood of all men in the world. She began to stroke Robin’s hair tenderly, thinking how much she loved his impish haircut and the way his silk sandy strands curled around her fingers. She loved Robin’s heart, big and kind; she loved his handsome face and his lithe body, all sleek curves and smooth flesh; she loved him wholeheartedly, and she would have gladly sacrificed herself for him.

Robin ran his fingers through his wife’s hair, wrapping a long flaming-red lock around his finger. In his thoughts, he was far away, thinking about his conversation with Melisende tonight. She had told him how she had managed to stop Prince John from killing Marian and him, and Robin’s heart swelled with pride for his wife who was ready to betray the Plantagenet family for him – just because she loved him more than anyone and anything else in the world. _Melisende loved Robin more than she loved England and King Richard; her loyalty to Robin was stronger than to England and her family._

Robin did love Melisende a lot, and his heart was glowing with a new flame of love and passion; he loved her differently; his love for her was not as desperate and deep as hers. He would die for her and for their son, but he didn’t give her his whole heart, and he felt guilty for that. Part of him was holding onto the old days, wondering what could have happened if he had never gone to the Crusade and had married Marian years ago. Robin loved not only Melisende and their son – he loved England, King Richard, and his friends, and still loved Marian too. Robin was a man of duty, but his love for Marian had become more important to him than his duty after his return from war; yet, her marriage to Guy returned him to the idea that duty prevailed over everything else in his life. Later, the knowledge of his true parentage cemented Robin’s absolute, unwavering loyalty to England that would always go ahead of his personal interests.

Melisende felt that the moment of frankness had finally come. She slipped out of Robin’s arms, grabbed her night robe, and donned it swiftly. A groan of protest erupted from Robin, but he didn’t say anything and didn’t stop her, watching her come to a table in the farthest corner with a surprised expression on his face.

She rummaged among the things which she had brought from London. In a moment, she found a parchment stamped with the seal of Sir Edward Fitzwalter of Knighton. As Robin’s gaze fell on the parchment, his heart constricted in anxiety and stood on guard against the whole universe.

As she approached the bed and landed on the edge, she looked at Robin, her heart palpitating in fear. “Robin,” she began. “If you love Lady Marian of Knighton more than me and want to be with her, you can do this because this document will allow you to annul our marriage. If you give it to the Archbishop of Canterbury, he will be able to declare our marriage null and void.”

He blanched to the whiteness of marble. “What is it?”

Melisende handed the parchment to him, and her husband took it with visibly trembling hands. “Look at this document which our spies discovered in the archive of Nottingham by sheer chance.”

Robin broke the seal, and looked at the contents. A thunder rumbled outside, and a lightning flashed across the black canvas. His emotions were churning and bubbling to the top, and his heart was thundering like blasts of thunder, connecting his dark mood with the nasty weather in a sort of disturbed way.

As his eyes took in Edward’s familiar handwriting, he felt as if someone shoved a knife down his throat, as if the world were laughing at him. He was reading the betrothal agreement that Edward and his father had signed many years ago, before the fire. He had once seen it when Edward had showed it to him after his first proposal to Marian; yet, he had forgotten about this document a long while ago. Robin was confused as to why Edward hadn’t destroyed it and hadn’t reminded him of its existence. How it was possible that the old parchment was whole and intact, not even torn, was a mystery to him.

Robin looked unhealthily pallid as his eyes met his wife’s. “Why do you think that… our marriage… can be… annulled?” he stuttered. After a moment’s pause, he added in a steadier voice, “Why are you giving this document to me, Melisende?”

Melisende schooled her features into an impassive mask. “Robin, I know that you love both Lady Marian and me.” She sighed. “I am fully aware that she still loves you too. I could see love for you in her eyes when she shielded you from John and was ready to die for you. Only a woman who is desperately in love with a man acts like she acted in the Tower.” She smiled wanly. “I would never tie you to myself if you don’t want to be with me, and now you have a chance to choose between Lady Marian and me. You shouldn’t worry about our son: this betrothal agreement was found after our wedding, and, thus, we didn’t know about the existing impediment to our marriage, and so our son is considered legitimate under canon law.”

“I am pre-contracted to Marian,” he uttered in an anguished voice.

At the sound of the pain in his voice, a somber feeling of agony permeated her. Now he would leave her for Marian! But at least she would still have her son – Robin’s son, a product of her love for him. “Yes, you are pre-contracted to her. I suppose that there was only a verbal cancellation of your betrothal to Lady Marian before your departure to the Crusade. Therefore, you are still her betrothed under canon law, and you didn’t need to propose to her again because your betrothal has never been officially broken.”

Robin nodded. Now he remembered that he hadn’t canceled his betrothal to Marian formally before leaving Nottingham in an insane rush after their last meeting in the woods, when she had thrown his ring into his face. “It means that–” He trailed off as his voice failed him. “It means that Marian’s marriage to Gisborne and her betrothal to Buckingham have never been valid.” He sighed. “Maybe Sir Edward signed the betrothal agreement to Buckingham because he knew that it wasn’t valid as I was still betrothed to Marian. But then why didn’t he tell me anything about that before his death?”

“I believe that Lord Knighton planned to tell you about the validity of your betrothal. I highly doubt that he wanted his daughter to marry a traitor, and he signed the agreement with the Earl of Buckingham for the reason you mentioned and also to save her life. I have no clue as to why he didn’t tell you that.”

“You are very likely to be correct.”

“You have to make a choice, and I am setting you free if you wish to marry Lady Marian.” The cold sense of the meaning of her statement settled in her head, and a mind-blowing pain ripped through her.

Robin was no longer as pale as he had been moments ago. He was quiet, full of an odd blend of pain, regret, and relief, as he looked through the parchment once more. Half of his life was directed by his love for Marian, but her betrayal had almost destroyed him, chilling him to the bone like a cold wind blowing over the woods and the fields near his beloved Locksley. It was the right thing to be with Melisende because they had a son and a child needed both a mother and a father. Although the old flames – his love for Marian – were unquenchable, he loved his wife as well, and the old days were gone irrevocably.

“Does anyone know about this agreement?”

“Lady Megan Bennet found it during one of her many reconnaissance missions in the castle in Nottingham. She gave it to Amicia, who passed it to me.” She sighed. “Catherine, my lady, also knows this.”

“They won’t talk, will they?” He knew that their lips were sealed, but he needed a confirmation.

“They will never utter a word.”

“Excellent.” He shifted on the bed, closer to a bedside table, where a single candle was burning. He brought the parchment to the candle, and it was immediately infused with flames. “It is too late for Marian and me,” he repeated what he had said to Marian tonight. He stilled, looking at the parchment that was burning in the flickering orange flames until only ashes remained.

“What are you doing? Why…” The words died away on her lips.

As he shook off the ashes from his hand, he veered his gaze to Melisende who looked stunned beyond measure. “You are my wife, Melisende, and it is my choice to be with you and our son. I didn’t lie to you when I confessed to loving you; already several times.” His voice took a step up in emotion. “I am not going to leave you, not because it is the right and honorable thing, but because I love you.”

Melisende smiled with a brilliant smile that nearly dazzled him. “Robin, I love you more than life itself!” She flung herself at him and kissed him, hard and deep. “I love you! I love you so much!” For a moment, she pulled away and flung off her night robe; then her lips were on Robin’s again.

His arms enveloped her and held her tightly to him as he kissed her hungrily. His kiss was searing and almost rough, and he felt an incandescent fire of desire sweep through him. When he was breathless, he ceased the kiss and stared into her eyes. “I need you now! Now!”

Her mysterious eyes were glowing with a violet flame of undisguised passion. “You are a very experienced lover, Lord Huntingdon,” she said, grinning at her husband.

Robin gave her a lopsided grin. "Lady Huntingdon, I am skilled in the art of love, but I have been faithful to you since our wedding. When I was a bachelor, I was an endearing flirt, and I had my share of quite wanton nights. Most women have never considered themselves dishonored by my attention." He often had intimate conversations with Melisende, discussing the topics which he would have thought twice before using in his communication with a less manner-relaxed Marian.

She playfully swatted him on the chest. "Like most men, you think too much of yourself. You are the best lover, and women fawn over you. You are the best husband, the best warrior in England, the most loyal subject to Richard, and the most handsome man in the world. You do always demand perfection, right?”

“Idealists always strive to perfection which they cannot achieve; but I am no longer an idealist,” he said somewhat dismally. He gazed into her eyes, his smile beaming. “Yet, I am proud of my ability to ignite an overpowering passion in my intelligent wife, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Then show me how proud you are,” she whispered.

Melisende stretched lazily on the bed, smiling alluringly at her husband as she regarded Robin's naked form. Then she sat astride him and guided him inside her, and he thrust into her with a force that made her gasp. When she began to rock and grind and undulate, and within a few moments, the room filled with their low guttural groans. Robin lifted his hips to meet her thrusts, burying himself to the hilt, while she wrapped her hand around his throat without squeezing it, looking into his eyes as she rode him. A crescendo began to build deep within them, and they flew to a chasmal abyss of pleasure.

Later, when Robin was sleeping peacefully, Melisende extricated herself from his grasp and climbed out of the bed. She walked on tiptoes a table where her things lay; it took her some time to find a small red velvet pouch. Gripping it with her hands, she strode towards a table where a jag of fresh water and several goblets stood. As she filled a goblet with water, she opened the pouch and poured the mixture of fragmented herbs into the water. Then she drained the liquid in one long swallow.

Melisende used special herbs for birth control when she had been Robert de Beaumont’s lover, before her marriage to Robin. She had never used them in Acre after her wedding to Robin, and she had conceived very quickly. She turned to the bed, and her gaze embraced the sleeping form of her beloved husband. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs at the thought that no baby would come out of their tonight’s passionate encounters. Melisende did want to have Robin’s second child, but now it wasn’t time for that.

She returned to the bed and whisked under the covers, cuddling to Robin. He moved in his sleep, and she slid closer to her husband until she was tucked against his chest; he instinctively hugged her. As she caressed his cheek with her thumb and he didn’t wake up, she sighed in contentment because Robin wasn’t having nightmares tonight; she still remembered his dreadful nightmares in Acre. Melisende was happy because the best man on earth was her husband who chose and loved her; and yet, a strange presentiment was moving towards her at a breakneck speed, and she was powerless to prevent it.

§§§

Lady Isabella of Gisborne was very worried. During the last two weeks, she was waiting for an audience with Prince John, but no summons came. After the scandal in the great hall, Isabella had been lodged at one of the luxurious rooms in the part of the Tower located very far from Prince John’s quarters. John didn’t invite her to him and spent nights with Lady Amicia de Beaumont, whom she disliked a lot.

Isabella knew that the prince was possessed by fury because now every courtier knew that King Richard was alive. In fact, John had to make another announcement about the king’s captivity: he assured the nobles that he would do anything to collect his elder brother’s ransom. Of course, the prince did nothing to help Richard; he didn’t know what to do next. Isabella watched Prince John on several feasts, always in the company of Amicia de Beaumont and the Black Knights. Isabella also wondered what a strange hold Lady Melisende Plantagenet had over her cousin and why John seemed to have been so afraid of the lady.

She had supposed that she had gotten everything she wanted – ample wealth and substantial power which her position of Sheriff of Nottingham gave her, as well as her husband’s death, for Squire Thornton had been hanged, drawn, and quartered on a trump-up charge of high treason. Yet, Isabella felt that she was dancing on the verge of a dangerous precipice, for her wellbeing depended on the success of the Shah-Mat operation, not even on John’s favor. Vaisey’s latest plot to dispose of King Richard crumbled, and Isabella was sure that Robin Hood would bring the king back to England.

She feared that she had lost Prince John’s favor, the only thing that could save her from King Richard’s wrath. Wishing to talk to Prince John, Isabella had come to his apartments without invitation. Yet, she wasn’t admitted to the prince because Amicia was spending the night with John. Isabella knew that John would summon her once he saturated his carnal hunger with Amicia. The thought that the prince slept with another woman and then would bed her made Isabella sick; she felt disgusted with being a royal mistress.

Eventually, Prince John summoned Isabella to his bedchamber, in more than a week after her arrival in London. Dressed in a silver brocade night rob, with a trendy silver nightgown with a V-shape neckline beneath the robe, Isabella strolled through the empty corridors, a long train trailing after her like wisps of moonlight. She was going to the royal apartments occupied by Prince John during the absence of King Richard. Fear made her feel uneasy, but she managed to appear radiant and overconfident.

As she reached the prince’s bedchamber, a servant opened the door for her, and she walked in. The chamber glowed in a golden haze from the candlelight. She was resolved not to expose herself by admiration to the rich interior, and she did her best to stifle a gasp of delight that she was again there.

Isabella had been in this room only several times before; Prince John had usually come to her in Shrewsbury when he had fallen for her and she had returned his affection. Every time she was impressed by the luxury: a huge canopied bed with the gilded headboard and gilded bedside tables on each side, polished furniture carved out of oak and heavily gilded, eccentric lamps and candlesticks, a rich array of silver, pewter, and brightly-colored glass used for embellishments of the interior, and magnificent hangings on the walls which were a great contrast to the bare whitewashed walls in hallways.

Dressed in a golden and silver silk night robe, Prince John stood near the bed covered with golden brocade covers. He was staring at Isabella boldly, naked anger burning in his eyes; his handsome face was flushed with wine and anger. Isabella held his gaze, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks as her pulse began to race; John’s reaction to her appearance stemmed from his anger at her, but she also knew that he wanted her brazenly.

“Good evening, Isabella,” Prince John began. “Have you missed me, my beloved mistress?” His tone sounded sarcastic and rude, as if she were something on the battlefield to be conquered and ravished.

Isabella smiled at her lover. “Yes, I missed you, my king.”

John cast at her a spleenful glance. “Your king? Richard is alive! He is still alive!”

“We all know that you, sire, are destined to become King of England. You must be king, not Richard, because your esteemed father wanted that,” she responded with a lift of her impudent chin.

John walked to Isabella and stopped near her. “My beauty, I know that I can trust you.” He raised her chin and glanced into her eyes. “I know that you love me.”

Isabella smiled enticingly, putting all her charms into that smile of hers. “I do love you, milord.”

John stepped aside and began pacing the chamber back and forth. “I can't go on like this! When will Robin Hood stop spoiling my life? He again ruined my plans when he came back from the dead!” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Everything was perfect. Vaisey and Gisborne went to Acre, and you accompanied them to check their loyalties.” He stopped near the bed, staring at his mistress with a desperate expression. “Vaisey was so close to killing Richard, but he failed thanks to Hood’s intervention.”

“And thanks to Archer’s interference as well; I mean the assassin whom you hired,” Isabella added dryly.

“Another traitor, damn him!” John fumed, wringing his hands helplessly. “I paid that Archer so much money for his expedition to the Holy Land, and he still betrayed me!”

“This man deserves a capital punishment, sire.”

“I want Robin Hood, Guy of Gisborne, Archer, and their accomplices dead!” John was burning with black fury he could no longer control. “But Melisende interfered, and now I cannot kill Hood!”

 “I am astounded that you didn’t outlaw the Earl of Huntingdon again.”

John sighed regretfully. “I cannot do that; at least not in a usual manner and not now.”

She arched a brow. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Isabella was amazed beyond measure, but she didn’t ask anything. “As you wish, sire.”

“You will go back to Nottingham in a week, and you will stay there.”

“Milord, Robin of Locksley openly accused me of an attempt on King Richard’s life.

“Don’t call my brother the king!” John shrilled, enraged. “I must be King of England!”

“I am sorry. I should have thought more before speaking.”

Prince John grinned at her. “Now you will show me how much you love me, my darling.”

Isabella came closer to John, and he scooped her into his arms. He kissed her, sliding his arms down her back and wrapping them around her waist. She opened her mouth and took his tongue inside, feeling his ribs through the fabric of his robe; John was naked under his robe.

John drew away from her. “Isabella, you proved your loyalty to me, and I trust you.” He kissed her ear, worshiping it with his mouth. “Maybe soon we will leave England for France, and I will take you with me.”

She was dumbfounded. “The Earl of Buckingham has already allied you with King Philippe against your brother. Why do we need to go to France?”

“If all of my plans don’t work, we will have to run to France and live at the French court.”

“And is that possible, sire?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Then why do I have to go back to Nottingham?”

He traced her jawline with his long fingers. “Hood disappeared, and I don’t know where he is. I need you to be in Nottingham if he went there.”

“But he told everyone that I am a traitor!”

“It doesn’t matter, my dear. I need you there, and you will be there.”

Isabella hated that everyone in Nottingham looked at her with contempt, for Robin Hood’s resurrection shattered the image of a good and honest woman she had cultivated. She couldn’t control the order in the town without brutal force. She didn’t mind tyranny and oppression, for she didn’t care for the peasantry, but she hated that the people of Nottingham began to see the second Vaisey in her.

“Yes,” she acquiesced.

“You will take the Earl of Spenser with you. He will help you rule the town.”

“Sire, I don’t need Lord Spenser. There will be a complete order in Nottingham under my rule.”

The prince sniggered. “Isabella, you are a practical woman not governed by whims and emotions.” She wanted to say something, but he put a finger to her lips. “You want power beyond measure, and you can earn it, but you are still a woman and you have a master. I am your master because I give you power.”

“Yes, my king.” It took all her restraint not to lash out at John physically or recoil from him in aversion. He reminded her of her husband at that moment, and hatred for men flared up in her tormented heart.

He said hoarsely. “My dear, you surely won’t object having Spenser in Nottingham.”

Isabella smiled. “I won’t protest. But all this display of power frightens me a little."

Prince John brushed a strand of dark hair from her forehead. “You have nothing to fear, Isabella. If you are loyal to me and help me get rid of my brother, I will always be ready to give you what you want,” he retorted with a smile. “I made you Sheriff of Nottingham. I managed to persuade the Church to give you a permanent separation from your husband when I needed Squire Thornton’s money for my plots against Richard.” A vulpine smile curved his lips. “And, finally, I executed your husband as I promised you.”

“I am eternally grateful to you,” she said with feigned gratitude.

“I will allow you to inherit your husband’s property because you were officially separated from him, and, thus, you are not associated with his treachery. You will be one of the wealthiest women in England.”

His last words made some of her anger subside. “Thank you very much, sire.”

“You are welcome, sweetheart,” John nearly sang, a smile quirking under his gaze. Then his expression hardened. “But never forget what I have done for you. I have the right to call this _your debt to me_.”

“I will be indebted to you forever.” Her sweet politeness covered a profound contempt for John and all other men who wanted to be masters of their women.

“Ah, how the secrets of your body tantalize me!” John’s body was aflame with desire for her.

“Then you won’t object to unveiling these secrets,” she remarked with a thin and fake smile.  “Long live King John!” Her hand went under his robe.

Isabella could see desire darken John’s eyes at the touch of her hand to his thigh. With a deep groan of satisfaction, he laid siege to her mouth. His hands were roaming over her body with the proprietary confidence of a master, and, as he tangled his fingers in her hair arranged in an up-do on her nape, he took silver pins from her hair. John broke the kiss while his hands started dragging her night robe down.

“Long live me,” the prince intoned, his hand sliding down her neck to her shoulders.

Smiling at him with counterfeited longing, Isabella removed her robe and nightgown and stepped to him naked. John swallowed hard as he contemplated her beauty; already being very aroused, he tossed his own robe on the floor and rushed to her. She dragged her hands eagerly over his skin, while he was kneading her breasts and thumbing her nipples, bringing them to rigid peaks until she squirmed in pleasure.

Prince John lifted Isabella in his arms and walked to the bed. He threw her on the bed not-so-gently, and then his mouth crashed down on hers. He gave her a blatantly carnal kiss, every thrust of his tongue into her mouth sending smoldering flames through her body and her mind. With his hands gripping her shoulders, John let his gaze dwell on the alabaster skin of her neck. He began to kiss her throat, and he penetrated her body with one swift movement, moving quickly inside of her.

John growled as he leaned over his mistress to scatter open-mouthed kisses along her neck, her jaw, and her cheeks. She welcomed his caresses, overwhelmed by the desire to gain some pleasure from her union with the prince if she couldn’t have true happiness with him. Isabella despised John, but she wanted him as a man because he was an excellent lover; she wanted to experience that ravaging delight, feeling as if she were running to light from darkness as he pounded into her over and over again.

After their lovemaking, Prince John quickly fell asleep, while Isabella lay in his arms. She caught herself on the thought that she didn’t feel even a slight emotional satisfaction of being with the prince. John had never been the man who could make her emotionally content, and now she understood, with sickening clarity, that no power and wealth would make her forget her terrible life with her cruel husband.

Isabella could only console herself with Squire Thornton‘s long-awaited death; when she had watched Thornton’s execution about a week ago, relief and happiness had blossomed in her heart. She had wanted Squire Thornton dead for a long time, but she hadn’t killed him because his wealth would have been inherited by his nephew, which was unacceptable for her. To get rid of her husband and become his only heiress, she needed a royal interference, and Prince John became her savior.

Isabella shut her eyes, not wishing to see her lover. Sudden embarrassment seized her as her mind floated to Sir Roger de Tosny, Baron de Conches, whom she remembered from her early youth. As if she were trying to hide her face from Prince John, she buried it into her pillow, but she couldn’t escape him, for it smelled of his perfume that she detested. She tried to fall asleep until dawn when she planned to leave.

Rosy-fingered dawn painted its tender light across the cold, spring sky above the city of London. Wearing only her night attire, Isabella ambled through the corridor, marveling at the sensation of freedom which she had after departing from the prince. She stopped near her bedroom and wanted to open the door when an unknown captor pressed his palm to her mouth and twisted her arms behind her back. Then Isabella was forced to turn around, gaping in shock as she stared into Roger de Tosny’s eyes.

Isabella felt her heart hammer harder and harder as she recognized Roger. He didn’t change beyond recognition after so many years had passed; she had last seen him when Guy had taken her from Roger’s castle at Conches to Angers, where she had been married off to Squire Thornton. Roger certainly looked older, but there was an air of lightness and nobility about him which always impacted people favorably. He wasn’t very handsome, but he was still remarkable with his flame-haired head, his narrow face, chiseled into tight angles of hostility and harshness and softened with his natural good-humored expression.

Roger de Tosny surveyed Isabella. He had always known that Isabella would grow up into a beautiful woman, but he was impressed with her when he had finally seen her today after so many years. There were harshness and bitterness in her beauty: she was one of those beautiful and cold women on whose faces he had seen a rapacious expression – an obsessive lust for power and wealth and desire to snatch from life more than it could give, which she needed as replacement for true love she had never had.

Roger gazed into Isabella’s eyes and began, “Listen to me, Isabella. Prince John won’t win the fight for the throne. King Richard will return and will take vengeance against the Black Knights.” He removed his hand from her mouth. “Do you understand what will happen to you then?”

Isabella tried to wrench out of his grip, but he held her tightly. “Why are you telling me that, Sir Roger?”

“I am here because I don’t want you dead. The king will execute you, and nobody will stand for you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

“The king certainly knows that it was the plot of the Black Knights to capture him. He will be so angry that he will take pleasure in spilling a good deal of treacherous blood,” he enlightened, gazing straight into her eyes. “The king decided in Acre that he would execute all of the Black Knights who were close to Vaisey.”

She blinked. “I wasn’t one of Vaisey’s friends, and now Vaisey is dead.”

Roger shook her nearly roughly, and she whimpered, but another shake silenced her. “Isabella, don’t be a fool!” his rude voice spoke, his eyes never leaving her face. “You contributed so much to the tragedy with Robin of Locksley that you signed your death warrant in Imuiz.”

“The Earl of Huntingdon is alive.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shot back. “In spite of Robin’s miraculous survival, the king will never condone your crimes. You attempted regicide, and it is a grave crime. Robin was wounded largely because of you.”

“John will protect me,” she persisted.

Roger de Tosny sighed. “Prince John is a fickle man, and you don’t know what he will want tomorrow or next week. The only thing that will save your neck is your cooperation with Robin and your brother, who now is Robin’s ally. You have to switch sides before it is too late, Isabella.”

Isabella was silent for a brief moment, looking into his eyes. “Why are you warning me?”

He smiled sadly. “You are guilty of many dastardly and evil deeds. When I learned that you attempted regicide, I didn’t want to believe in that.” He let his gaze travel from her eyes down her face, lingering it on her mouth and then returning it to her eyes. “I remember you as a good girl, shy and naïve, traumatized by the memories of the fire at Gisborne Manor and by abject poverty. I hope that there is still some good in you – something untarnished by the cruelty you had endured.”

The realization filled her heart with insidious warmth – he cared for her like he had done when she had been a girl of twelve. “I have changed, and so have you. Nothing stays unchanged.”

Roger released her and stepped aside. “I warned you, Isabella.”

“Sir Roger,” Isabella called.

“What?” he asked, smiling at her amusedly.

As she looked into his eyes, her face brightened up.  “Nothing. I only–”

Roger put his arm round her waist and kissed her on the mouth on impulse, and she responded to his kiss with a fervor that heightened his desire for more. It was their first kiss, for Roger would have never dared kiss a young maid, more a child than a woman, with whom he had had long strolls and rides into the forest near Conches castle, where Guy and Isabella had lived for a few years.

Roger suddenly drew back, and looked into her dazed eyes; he could see that she was affected by their kiss. “I don’t believe that you are irredeemable, Isabella.”

“Sir Roger, I… I…” Isabella felt lost for the first time in many years.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Be silent.”

Roger continued a passionate attack on her lips. Isabella felt happy, as if she were taking off the ground and flying in the sky, for none of Prince John’s kisses had ever given her such a breathtaking delight. The witchery of the kiss revealed to Isabella how much he wanted her, and she found it unbelievably fascinating.

Soon, he parted from her, breathing heavily and looking around, fearful that someone might have seen them. “Enough. We don’t have time for emotions,” his grueling voice spoke.

“Why did you kiss me?” Isabella wanted to know.

Roger didn’t answer. Instead, he extracted a parchment from the pocket of his cloak and put it in Isabella’s hand. “If you want to change allegiances, come to this tavern and give it to a one-eyed servant boy. You won’t find Robin or his friends there, including me, but one of my men regularly contacts this boy.”

“I am not going to do that.”

“Then you are a fool because it is your only chance to survive,” he returned disappointedly.

She glanced around. “You must leave.”

“I must.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Think about my offer.” He smiled at her with a guarded smile. He turned around and strode towards the end of the corridor, hoping that she would join the right side.

He didn’t see Isabella standing still near the wall, her gaze following him. If Roger turned around to her, she would have run to him like a girl and would have embraced him. But soon all was quiet, and he was gone. Isabella straightened her night robe and re-arranged her hair; then she opened the door and entered her room. Her heart was very heavy, and it was changing, but she didn’t know what to do with her feelings.

§§§

Spring finally came to Sherwood Forest. When they had saved Guy a few weeks ago, it was cold and the ground was still covered with slushy snow here and there; but the snow had melted, and grass and leaves sprang up, green and lush. It no longer rained, the sun shone brightly, trees were green, and everyone was filled with a joyfulness that was making every nerve quiver with excitement.

Allan had already recovered from his grievous wound. Djaq, Will, and Kate nursed him back to health, and Allan pulled through. Now he was still a little pale and certainly thinner than he had been before, but he was the same cheeky rogue throwing barbs at everyone and entertaining his friends with incredible and half-true stories about his life before meeting Robin. When he had emerged from the fever, Allan had been both shocked and happy to learn that Robin had survived, and he was waiting for Robin’s return impatiently, but he also feared to face Robin again, still remembering his betrayal of the gang.

When Carter had suddenly arrived from London in Sherwood with the news that an incapacitated Robin needed Djaq’s help, Allan had wished to accompany them and help them deal with Prince John. He had already packed his bag, but Djaq strictly prohibited him from leaving, stating that he hadn’t been strong enough for a long trip. So Allan had stayed in the forest and continued helping Little John feed the poor; they had increased the number of drops to Locksley and other villages in Nottinghamshire after Robin had given them more gold and coins, which had been buried as a treasure before Robin’s first departure to Acre. 

Allan, John, Will, Tuck, Kate, and Rebecca were having a dinner, sitting around a campfire and hungrily listening to Allan’s stories. Kate occupied the place next to Allan, all her attention focused on the handsome face of the thief; Rebecca frowned at her daughter, angry that she was obviously infatuated with Allan. Towards the end of the dinner, wine made them quiet good-humored, and they passed to a more lively conversation; now they had the elite wine which Robin and his friends had brought from Aquitaine.

Holding a platter with stew and some venison in his hands, Allan was telling one of his many stories. “When I last was in Rochdale, I had to escape from a local magistrate. I was captured, but I managed to ambush two guards and flee in a guard’s disguise. They chased after me with dogs and a large army of guards.” He chuckled. “I barely saved myself that day, and it was not funny at all.”

Will smiled as he put a piece of stew into his mouth. “Allan, you have become your old self!”

Allan winked at Will. “I am never gonna change, mate.” He let out a laugh, his gaze fixing on Kate; he was smiling cheekily, and his blue eyes twinkled. “When King Richard comes back to England, I will reclaim my former lands. Then I will be able to settle down and marry a good and decent maiden.”

Kate blushed at Allan’s words and lowered her gaze, feeling embarrassed. She had dreamt of being with a man like Allan for so long, but she didn’t dare hope that he would ever pay attention to her; not when he was the Baron of Rochdale and an owner of vast lands. “Allan, I am happy that the king pardoned you.”

Allan thought of proposing to Kate, although she didn’t know about that. “Thank you, Kate,” he said in a deep, velvet voice that induced the young potter girl to raise her eyes to him.

“You are welcome, Allan,” Kate replied with a sunny smile.

Will and Little John shared interested glances. Tuck was looking between Allan and Kate, his lips curved in a wry smile. Rebecca was more than dissatisfied – she was seething with anger; she disliked all of the outlaws and Robin especially, and it irked her that her daughter fancied Allan.

“Allan, you had to escape from Rochdale and many other places because you are a low criminal, like all your friends from Sherwood,” Rebecca of Locksley affirmed, wrinkling her nose distastefully. “You, not my daughter, must have stood on the scaffold together with Gisborne, this damned murderer.”

Kate glared at her mother. “Mother, how can you say that about one of Robin Hood’s men?”

Rebecca continued waspishly, “This man – Allan-a-dale as he calls himself, if it is really his name – is a criminal like Robin Hood, who is the most vicious criminal in the shire and in England. When Hood was outlawed, I hoped that he would have enough sense and shame to leave the village. The sheriff always took the donations that Hood handed to us, and he also punished us for consorting with the outlaws. There was more harm than good from Hood and his band.” She smirked. “Vaisey failed to arrange an effective round-up of criminals from Sherwood, and so did Isabella of Gisborne. So the woods are still full of vultures.”

Will shook his head disapprovingly. “Rebecca, Robin saved your life. You must respect him.”

Tuck put his empty platter on the grass. “I don’t think you are right, Rebecca.”

John released a sigh of frustration. He had nothing against Kate, but he had disliked Rebecca even before he was outlawed so long ago. “You have no shame and no conscience, Rebecca.”

“Mother, you are too harsh. Never say anything bad about Sir Robin,” Kate admonished.

“Hood even threatened to expel us from his lands,” Rebecca persisted. “This criminal threatened us, good villagers of Locksley! He has no right to do this!” She threw her platter away, and several pieces of stew were now on the ground. “It would have been better if this vagabond had never been our lord again.”

“Maybe you want Gisborne to be Lord of Locksley? Would the murderer of your son be a better lord for you, Rebecca?” Will confronted her with undisguised sarcasm and aggression.

Rebecca’s expression was feral, and her eyes looked like a snake’s. “I want Gisborne dead! Dead!”

Will sighed. “You hate Gisborne and despise Robin, Rebecca. Do you loathe yourself?”

The middle-aged potter woman bristled, “Don't you dare be so rude to me, Will Scarlett! I am not going to reply to your provocation!”

John put the platter away, and then he rose to his feet. “I lost my appetite. I cannot eat in her presence.”

Kate jumped to her feet. “Mother, what are you doing? Do you have any shame?”

Rebecca stood up as well. “I have shame, Kate!” she shouted. “I just cannot stand Hood’s arrogance and vanity! He crossed the line when he threatened us. He thinks that if he saved the king, he is the hero of England! He plays a hero and a soldier but he does everything to earn glory!”

An angry Will grouched, “You have no right to say such things about Robin, your lord and savior!”

“You are wrong, Rebecca,” an irritated Tuck interposed, shaking his head in shocked disbelief.

“Absolutely no shame,” John repeated, a scowl forming on his forehead.

Rebecca flung back her head and laughed nastily. “Don’t judge me, you criminals! Go drop down on your precious leader, that spoiled brat of Locksley!”

Allan shot Rebecca a murderous glare. “I am gonna say something you won’t like, Rebecca. I normally don’t hit a woman, but now I am eager to beat you because you deserve it.”

“I warned you once, Rebecca,” the voice spoke behind them. “It seems that you didn’t understand me.”

They turned around, staring into the woods and searching for the speaker; they recognized Robin’s voice. Then Robin, Guy, Marian, Megan, and the others came to the clearing where the outlaws’ camp was located.

Kate looked horrified. “Oh, my Lord! It is Lord Huntingdon!”

“Lord… Robin…” a frightened Rebecca stammered.

As he stopped beside Rebecca, Robin made a mocking bow. “As a knight and a cultured man, I have to greet you with gallantry, although you don’t deserve it. I am at your service, Rebecca.”

Allan immediately forgot about the quarrel with Kate’s mother. He jumped to his feet and rushed to Robin. Allan scooped Robin into his arms, laughing happily. Robin hugged his friend in response.

Allan drew back, looking at Robin with a sincere smile. “I cannot imagine how you survived, mate, but I have never been as happy as I am now.”

Robin smiled back. “It is good to be alive and back.”

Allan took a step aside and eyed Robin. “Now you definitely look much better, Robin.”

“At least, I don’t have my own scimitar driven in my stomach,” Robin jested.

Allan sighed self-consciously. “Robin, I never meant to… hurt your feelings.”

Robin patted Allan’s shoulder fondly. “No need to be so considerate. I can speak about it now.”

Much appeared behind Robin, and twined his arm around his best friend’s back. “Robin looks as handsome and dashing as always. He has always been the most charming man at royal courts; only the Earl of Leicester is his rival. He is always admired and envied by everyone.” He smiled. “But he is very lean now.”

Guy rolled his eyes, for Much irritated him. Marian and Megan giggled, while Carter and Archer smiled crookedly. The others looked neutral, accustomed to Much’s ranting and to his speeches praising Robin.

Robin shot Much an annoyed glance. “Much, please stop ranting.”

Marian’s eyes were kind. “Oh, Much, Much.”

“He has always been like this?” Megan asked curiously.

“At least as long as I have known him,” Djaq said; then she threw herself headlong into Will’s arms.

Allan regarded Robin scrupulously once more. “Hey, mate, you look very good, but you are too thin.”

A dark look crossed Robin’s face. “I was thinner when I was recovering in Jerusalem. I was cachectic back then.” Then he turned away from Allan and leveled his sharp gaze at Rebecca. “But not all of the villagers from Locksley are happy that I survived and returned. Am I right, Rebecca?”

Rebecca didn’t say anything, for she was at a loss, and she frightened at the sight of Robin’s harsh face. Instead of apologizing to her lord, the woman stalked into the depths of the forest, shoving everyone roughly away from her path. Feeling ashamed, Kate mumbled an apology to Robin and trailed behind her mother; she was very conscious of her developing alienation from Rebecca.

“This woman must be dealt with. She is revolting!” Much screeched. “Robin, I can escort Rebecca and Kate, as well as her daughter, Maggie, out of Nottingham tomorrow at dawn, if you want this.”

Carter was shocked that someone dared speak about their lord, all the more about Robin, in such disrespectful tones. “Robin, I agree with Much. We should throw them out of Nottingham tomorrow.”

Robin rubbed his cheek. “Well, Rebecca certainly deserves at least a stern reprimand.”

Allan looked alarmed. “Robin, please don’t banish them. Kate is not guilty of her mother’s mistakes.”

Robin nodded. “I won’t do that only because of you, Allan.”

“Thank you, Robin,” Allan replied with gratitude.

Robin smiled at Allan. “When can we expect a wedding?”

All eyes riveted on Robin and Allan. Only Will smiled knowingly.

Allan smiled shyly. “Well, I haven’t proposed to Kate yet. How do you know, Robin?”

“Allan, have you forgotten that I am a ladies man?” A laughing Robin wrapped his arm around Allan’s back, and the other man clapped him on the shoulder. “I thought that you are a ladies man too, my friend.” He sniggered. “Was I mistaken that you have as much experience with ladies as I have?”

Allan laughed. “Oh, Robin, you and I certainly have much in common.”

Robin’s face split into an impish grin. “But now I am a married cheeky rogue faithful to his wife.”

“For sure,” Archer said. He liked Robin’s wife and didn’t imagine anyone, married to such a beautiful woman as Melisende, straying from his marriage vows.

Guy looked at Megan, and they shared ambiguous glances. Then his gaze flew to Marian; he was interested to see how Marian would react to Robin’s mocking speech that could have made her jealous.

Marian rolled her eyes at Robin’s frankness. “Robin, please do us a favor and spare us the details about your love conquests. We are not interested in how many mornings and nights you spent with your lovers.”

Guy gazed away, sighing deeply. Megan noticed that and sighed plaintively.

Marian’s speech goaded Robin into a sarcastic offensive. “I beg your pardon if I displeased you or injured your vanity, Marian. However, pleasure and displeasure are so tied together that if you covet to have as much as possible of one, you must also have the equivalent measure of the other. But you have forgotten about this!” He paused for a moment, thinking. His voice was edged with something akin to exacerbation as he went on. ”Marian, one more thing! I am a grown-up man, and I don’t need your guidance in life.”

Marian directed at Robin a brittle glare. “I am sorry if I am lowering myself in your eyes, Lord Robin.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Lady Marian,” Robin parried in the same official manner.

Everyone stared at Robin and Marian in silence. They didn’t wish to interfere.

Guy approached Marian from the back. “Marian, Robin meant nothing wrong. And I believe that you can continue your sarcastic argument later; not when we are exhausted.” Guy suspected that Marian’s sudden attack at Robin and Robin’s sarcasm were actually rooted in the pain and hurt stemming from their inability to be together. That knowledge pained him, but it didn’t shred his heart into unreconstructable smithereens.

“Of course, Guy,” Marian returned with a stiff nod.

Guy looked at Allan, smiling. “Congratulations, Allan! I am glad that you found a woman for a marriage.”

Allan was beaming. “Thank you so much, Guy! We will dance on my wedding if Kate accepts me!”

“Naturally.” Guy wasn’t happy that Allan, one of his few friends, loved a woman who had betrayed him.

Megan smiled perkily at Allan; she remembered him from the evening when she had stumbled into him in the forest while living in Nottingham. “Congratulations, Sir Allan.”

Allan tossed his head. “Don’t call me ‘Sir Allan’! I haven’t been knighted! Call me simply Allan.”

“Very well,” Megan assented, smiling. As her gaze flew to Guy and Marian, she felt a stab of jealousy in her heart. She plastered a bland smile of a courtier on her face. “I suppose that we will have two weddings upon King Richard’s return, which is very good.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Marian pronounced in a low voice, her expression colder than before.

Guy frowned. “Marian?”

Everyone’s eyes were on Guy and Marian, except for Megan’s. The situation was rather unusual and tricky, for everyone knew that their marriage had been annulled at Prince John’s initiative.

Robin feigned a smile. “I am sure that King Richard will gladly give Marian away after his return.”

Guy looked calm and his lips barely twitched; but inside a storm of violent emotions coursed through him as his eyes darted between Marian and Robin. He saw Marian look at Robin with hard eyes that gave nothing away; but he felt that emotions were roaring through her, mostly anger at Robin.

Although they were all tired, Will and Djaq went to deliver more food supplies to Locksley and other villages after Little John’s return from the village. Tuck, Kate, and Rebecca were sent to collect firewood; Archer went to the woods to practice swordplay. Much began to cook, and Little John agreed to help. Guy, Marian, and Megan simply sat around the fire, watching each other and others; Robin was talking about the king’s return and the plan of the king’s salvation.

As he was cooking, Much was humming something under his breath. His mood was elated because his beloved Robin was alive and happy in private life. He missed Eve who was waiting for his return to Northampton, but he couldn’t leave Robin. Even though he was married to the woman he loved, not all his heart belonged to Eve, for he loved Robin more than anyone else in the world.

Little John smiled. “Much, you are again singing?”

“He always does,” Carter said joyfully. “I feared that we would be unable to sign the peace treaty with Saladin if Prince Malik or Prince Al-Afdal heard Much sing in the camp.”

Marian laughed. “Much liked singing when we were running through Sherwood in childhood.”

“I also remember Lord Much singing in Locksley before the fire,” Guy interjected. “I went to Locksley to find my mother. In the parlor at Locksley Manor, I saw a singing Lord Much.”

“Why are you so official with Much, Guy?” Allan didn’t hide his bewilderment. “I wanted to ask you that on the way back from Acre, but I never had a moment to do that.”

Guy smiled ironically. “Just to keep a pretense of respect that doesn’t exist between him and me.”

“I never asked Gisborne to call me Lord Much,” Much barked, offended.

“Well, I suppose it is strictly between Much and Guy,” Marian put in.

 “But it is… weird to call him Lord Much, although he is indeed a lord,” Allan opined.

“I don’t care how this man addresses me,” Much blurted out, looking at the cooking food. “I don’t want to see him, and I am tolerating him only because Robin asked me about that.”

Guy pulled his gaze from Much and looked at Megan who was sitting on the grass next to him. During the weeks he had spent with Megan in the underground dungeons, she impressed him with her comprehensive personality, with her honesty and her compassionate nature, her understanding of his choices he had to make in order to survive, and her radiant intelligence. When Guy remembered Megan, he felt peace and relief in his heart, and he enjoyed their interactions; yet, he couldn’t have said that he was over Marian.

Megan asked, “Are you marrying Marian?” At her own words, her heart constricted in her chest.

“Who knows?” Guy answered, shrugging.

She gazed away, and changed the topic. “Have you decided what to do with Lady Isabella?”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

Megan glanced back him and sighed. “Although my father’s death is only Isabella’s fault, I don’t hate her, Guy. I think that she has become such a cruel and vengeful woman because of her difficult marriage to the abusive Squire Thornton.” She paused, again sighing. “Despite everything, I do pity Isabella.”

Guy looked up, and his eyes took in the wind-driven clouds fleeting across the darkening heavens; his expression was detached, as if he were looking into the face of eternity. He could no longer blame anyone for the destruction of his relationship with Isabella. “It is my fault,” he acknowledged. He looked back at Megan, his eyes full of sorrow and guilt. “When Vaisey introduced me to his third cousin, Squire Thornton, I arranged a marriage for Isabella. I didn’t know that Thornton was such a cruel man, but there was something that made me shiver when I looked at this man.”

Megan gave a nod. “You were young, and you couldn’t understand this man at that time.”

Guy shrugged. “I should have seen that.”

“You couldn’t, Guy.”

“I should have checked on Isabella at least once after her marriage, but I have never done that. Instead, I lived as if she were a stranger, breaking my promise to protect her.”

Megan gently touched his cheek. “But what is done is done, Guy.”

Guy smiled at her ruefully, enjoying her tender and innocent caress; he was at peace in her presence. “Unfortunately, there is no way back,” he said in a controlled voice. “But I wronged my sister greatly.”

“Did you ever tell her that?”

He shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then, maybe you should speak to her.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Meg.” His voice sounded skeptical.

“You are wrong, Guy. It is never too late.” She glanced into his eyes, and expostulated, “You should talk to Isabella, Guy. It’s your duty to your sister and to your mother as well.”

Megan and Guy looked at each other in a benign silence; then he said in a low voice, “You think she will want to listen to me? She hates me so much that she would rather kill me than talk to me.”

“Maybe you should try to talk to Isabella before making conclusions,” she said insistently.

Guy dipped his head in agreement, and Megan nodded back at him in comprehension. He appreciated Megan’s commitment to help him become a better man, which was stronger than her loyalty to England and always came above her convictions; in contrast to Megan, Marian’s commitment personally to Guy had always been weaker than her loyalty to England, the poor, and, of course, Robin Hood, although Marian always wanted him to become a better man.

“I will if I have a chance,” he promised.

Meanwhile, Robin and Marian were sitting on the grass, under a tall old oak, in the farthest part of the clearing. The branches of the oak were thickly foliaged, and in the gathering dusk, nobody could see them there. There was silence and distance between them. Marian felt as if she had been cast out of Robin’s life, and her heart was breaking into many little pieces. Robin was angry and jealous, fearful that she would marry Guy again; the very idea of her being in Guy’s bed again made him furious.

“Marian,” Robin called. As she turned to him, he asked slowly, "Do you want to marry Gisborne?” He was afraid lest she gave him a positive answer; afraid that his heart would break once again.

Marian blinked; her sapphire blue eyes were very bright and puzzled too. “Does it matter, Robin?”

He drew a hard breath, and said, “It does.”

She scrutinized his face, looking at him as if she were trying to read his thoughts. She could see the mental agony in his unguarded eyes, and her heart told her that he was jealous. He cared for her despite all his statements of them not being soulmates! She leaned forward a little, as if she were going to embrace him, but then she straightened and pulled away. “I will never marry Guy again,” she avouched.

A flicker of relief came into his eyes, and a little smile graced his features. “Why?” he inquired.

Marian knitted her brows. “Robin, you told me that you wouldn’t object if I married Guy after the king’s return. But now your behavior contradicts your recent speeches.”

Robin grinned brassily. “Marian, I will debunk the myth you created for yourself.” For a moment, in his eyes there was the reflection of the blackness of his mind struggling with the pain he had felt after her marriage to Guy. Then the emotional masquerade continued, and he grinned again. “You can marry whoever you want and whenever you want. You were not gracious to invite me to your first wedding, but I count on your hospitality to extending an invitation to me on your second wedding with Gisborne.”

“Liar,” she said after a pause, glancing into his eyes.

He looked lost and bewildered. “I have never lied to you, Marian.”

Her eyes were full of pain. “You have never lied to me, but you have spoken the truth rarely – you have always kept it to yourself.” She heaved a dolorific sigh. “I lied to you, and I am sorry for that. I should have done many things differently. I should have joined you in the woods after leaving Guy at the altar. Or I should have never returned to the castle after my father’s death.” She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “Why it happened to us, Robin? Why?”

Looking into Robin’s eyes, Marian compared her feelings for Guy with those she had for Robin, finding a stark difference between them: her heart didn’t pound in all-absorbing love for Guy and didn’t leap in indescribable joy within her chest when Guy was close to her, and her entire being wasn’t filled with mirth, peace, and gladness – it was exactly the opposite to what she felt in Robin’s presence. Marian coveted to have the vibrant exchange of love and passion with Robin, such as they had had at first, before her marriage to Guy, when their feelings had been matched at their highest intensity. But they couldn’t be together!

Robin felt his lungs constrict, his heart throbbing, his hands shaking. He had formed another center of love – in Melisende and their son, Richard. Yet, the old flames had been reignited and were now starting to lick the walls of his heart. No, the truth was that the old flames were always burning beneath the surface because he had never stopped loving Marian. Her candid admissions and the regret laced in her voice strengthened and purified his love for her because for the first time he heard that she had regretted marrying Guy. The old wounds were talked about and began to heal, but it was a torture to be next to her.

He murmured, “I don’t know, Marian. I don’t know.”

“Too late,” she whispered, nearly inaudibly, but Robin was sure he heard her right.

He placed his hand beneath her chin and brushed her lower lip with his thumb. Marian’s lips parted slightly, and her breathing accelerated, a wave of faintness sweeping over her. His mouth began to water for want of hers, and he was tempted to kiss her, but he couldn’t do that because they were not alone and because he was married. At the moment, Robin was consumed by pure, primal physical need to make Marian his because he loved and wanted her. He leaned his head down to meet her lips; and she was staring into his eyes, her own eyes scared and blazing with a passion for him.

Suddenly, Robin straightened and took his hand away from her mouth. He couldn’t be with her, and he couldn’t bear being so close to her. With a pang of anguish, it was decided – he had to leave her because it was the right thing to do. “I must go. Much will be looking for me,” he murmured as he got to his feet. “Always in different directions, Marian.”

“Yes,” she responded, her voice a mere echo without body or meaning.

“I will see you in the camp,” he said officially.

Robin Marian left sitting there, hollow and brokenhearted. The turbulence raged in her breast, and her soul was screaming with pain and agony. Now she had no doubt that Robin still loved her, and she loved him. But they were lost to each other forever, even though the old flames were still burning fervidly.

§§§

After returning to the camp, Robin settled himself on the ground near the fire. He drank thirstily in the sight of the green woodland, and his mind drifted back to the happy days he had spent in Aquitaine. He associated Megan with the carefree days of his early youth, for he remembered her since those days, and he also knew and respected her father since the days of his knighthood training under Sheridan’s leadership.

Robin looked at Megan, smiling. “Meg, do you want to sing something in Occitan with me?”

Megan’s face brightened, and she nodded. “Robin, it is the greatest idea of the day! What do you want to sing?” She missed Aquitaine so much – royal court, traditions, the art of the troubadours, and even the Occitan language – all what constituted her childhood and early adolescence at court in Poitiers.

“Let’s sing a song composed by Duke William IX of Aquitaine,” an overjoyed Robin offered in most cheerful tones. “Once, King Richard, Queen Eleanor, Robert de Beaumont, and I sang this song before the whole court. It is called _‘The New life: the woods are leafing out’._ ”

“It fits this day – our arrival in Sherwood.” Megan tore her gaze from Robin and stared at Guy.

A look of confusion passed over their friends’ faces, and Much clarified, “This is the song composed by Queen Eleanor’s grandfather. I remember Robin singing it in Acre, at rare festivities, between battles.”

Robin reminisced, “The king also sang this song while sitting around a campfire after battles, with our comrades. King Richard and Queen Eleanor love Duke William’s songs.” He sighed as it occurred to him that he was talking about his own great-grandfather, and the realization made him dizzy for an instant.

Guy smiled. “This song is symbolical for us.” He glanced at Megan, his eyes sparkling animatedly; he understood what song Robin meant because Megan had once sung it during the days of their imprisonment.

“Yes, it is.” Megan laughed joyfully, shifting from Guy to Robin.

Robin rose to his feet and seated himself near Megan, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss that a gallant knight usually gives to a lady.

Looking at Robin and Megan, Guy flashed his former adversary a fulminating look; he felt a sharp stab of sudden jealousy that was so deep and real that it adequately matched the jealousy he felt of Marian to Robin. Robin intercepted Guy’s glance and laughed in response. Guy had no idea that Robin behaved so on purpose, testing Guy; now Robin saw that Megan was indeed Guy’s new flame.

Marian settled far from Robin.  She watched Robin and Megan, her heart thumping in anticipation. She had known even the Robin of old times far less than she had ever realized, she had to admit to herself: she didn’t know that Robin loved singing in Occitan and was interested in the art of troubadours. She hadn't really known Robin’s character, and she was a fool that she had never bothered to do that before.

“It will be great,” a slightly surprised Megan told Robin as he kissed her hand and then clasped their hands in a devotional form. She saw nothing wrong in Robin’s actions because it was obvious to her that he was acting. Courtly love was about touching without wantonness of any sorts, and she was accustomed to singing with courtiers and troubadours at court. Courtly love was also about bringing references to nature – to leaves, flowers, birds, and songs, and singing in the forest was romantic and poetical.

Megan requested that Allan play a low, deep tune on the lute, and she showed him how to play it. With a laugh, Allan pledged that he would do his best to please the audience with his music. There was a silence in the outlaws’ camp as everyone waited for Robin and Megan to start singing.

With the first sound of the lute, Megan and Robin began to sing in the Occitan language. The melodic, quick words flew out of their mouths, and the unbelievably lyrical and unforgettable rhythms of music were the natural, unfettered rhythms of poetic speech. Although very few of them understood Occitan – Guy and Carter knew the language well enough, while Marian and Much understood it only a little, it was about listening and feeling the emotions packed in the words and music.

_Ab la dolchor del temps novel_

_foillo li bosc, e li auchel_

_chanton, chascus en lor lati,_

_segon lo vers del novel chan;_

_adonc esta ben c'om s'aisi_

_d'acho don hom a plus talan._

The words of the first couple were symbolical: Robin, Guy, and the others were beginning a new life, and nature was awakening from the slumbers of a chilly winter and unusually cold March and April. _“New life: the woods are leafing out and every type of bird is shouting now in its specific tongue, all versions of the latest song. The time is sweet – a man should find the ease which most is on his mind.”_

Will and Djaq appeared in sight and sat on the ground in a small distance, watching Robin and Megan. Archer emerged from the woods and settled next to Will and Djaq; he had finished his swordplay training and had returned to the camp. The three of them had already heard Robin sing in Saladin’s palace in Jerusalem, so it was not new for them, but they liked to listen to it. Robin didn’t sing as well as Megan did, but he had some talent and, definitely, wasn’t the worst singer in the world.

Megan and Robin were captivated by the music, their right hands still joined together. They sang about the woods leafing out and referring to birds twittering in the woods in honor of a coming new life.

_De lai don plus m'es bon e bel_

_non vei mesager ni sagel,_

_per que mos cors non dorm ni ri,_

_ni no m'aus traire adenan,_

_tro que eu sacha ben de fi_

_s'el es aissi com eu deman._

The next verse was about the knight’s torments in the light of his doubts about his lady’s feelings for him. _“From there (where it would please me best to be) so far I have had no word – until I can be reassured by her of what I am hoping for, I don't dare go there anymore and so can neither laugh nor rest.”_

Megan was staring at Robin who looked as if he were living in a world of music. In the song, the knight swore to neither laugh nor rest until he won his lady love’s heart, and that reminded her of Marian and Guy, as well as of Robin and Melisende. Megan’s mind diverted to Melisende whom she dearly loved. She was sure that Robin loved his wife because it was impossible not to fall for Melisende, and she wished Robin and Melisende only happiness. Then her gaze flew to Marian, and she questioned whether the other woman loved Guy or Robin; she didn’t understand Marian.

Marian’s eyes met Robin’s at one time and another. Marian envied that Megan, not she, was singing with her former betrothed. A quenchless longing nested in the hollow of her heart, a dead weight she would have to carry at all times, for Robin would never be hers again. She wanted to give Robin all her love, passion, care, and tenderness, but she couldn’t even dream of him because he belonged to Melisende. Now she wanted Robin more than ever, and she found the laugh of ridicule in that as she couldn’t have him.

_La nostr' amor vai enaissi_

_com la branca de l'albespi_

_qu'esta sobre l'arbre tremblan,_

_la nuoit, a la ploia ez al gel,_

_tro l'endeman, que•l sols s'espan_

_per la fuella vert e•l ramel._

The knight’s love for his lady was a fragile and yet strong feeling, life-giving and guiding to light. “This is how our love is now: it is like a fragile hawthorn bough that trembles on the tree all night and rattles under hail and rain, but next day feels the spreading light on twigs which soon are pushing green.”

Megan called that love _‘a lingering love’_ that probably existed between Marian and Robin. She felt that there was some truth in what she had concluded existed between Marian and Robin. In the next moment, Robin locked his gaze with Megan’s. In his eyes, she saw deep passion mingled with melancholy, and she figured out that he was thinking of his love stories with Marian and Melisende. Now she clearly saw Robin’s torn state of mind and heart between the present and the past, the old life and the new life.

_Equer me membra d'un mati_

_que nos fezem de guerra fi,_

_e que•m donet un don tan gran,_

_sa drudari' e son anel:_

_equer me lais Dieus viure tan_

_c'aia mas manz soz so mantel._

In a few moments, they began to sing about the lady’s certain precious gifts to the knight. _“That branch reminds me of a morning when we made an end to war and when she gave me precious gifts: her ring, her friendship, and her love. Dear God, may I live long enough to get my hands inside her shift!”_

Megan and Marian stared at one another, smiling sincerely for the first time since their meeting in Greenwich. Somehow, that verse of the song about the happy ending for the knight and his damsel brought them closer: each of them dreamt of finding love and happiness, and they got a peculiar thrill from that.

_Qu'eu non ai soing de lor lati_

_que•m parta de mon Bon Vezi,_

_qu'eu sai de paraulas com van,_

_ab un breu sermon que s'espel,_

_que tal se van d'amor gaban,_

_nos n'avem la pessa e•l coutel_

But the song had a bittersweet ending: regardless of love being painted in vibrant and blithesome colors by knights and troubadours, it was still fragile and often bleak, as if painted in pastel watercolors. _“And I don't hold with all that guff about adoring from far off. You know how their chatter goes: those fancy pants should get a life. No matter what the others boast of love, we have both the loaf and knife.”_

“Bravo, Meg and Robin! That was amazing!” Allan exclaimed as he put the lute on the grass.

“Bravo!” an exhilarated Marian murmured.

“Majestic,” Carter assessed with a wide smile.

Much lauded his former master, “Everything Robin does is majestic!”

Little John looked deeply impressed. “Robin, I have never thought that you can sing.”

“We tried to please you, lads,” a grinning Robin retorted.

“You certainly achieved that.” For the first time, Guy felt comfortable in the presence of Robin’s friends.

Robin grinned sheepishly. “I cannot sing as well as Meg can, but I did my best.”

Megan feigned embarrassment, but her eyes were twinkling. “Robin, do you want more compliments?”

“He does!” Archer cried out. “It is his vain nature!”

Megan giggled. “I absolutely agree with this assessment!”

Guy smiled amicably. “And so do I.”

Robin snorted elegantly. “Archer, you are younger than me, so please mind your business.”

“Did you hear what Robin said?” Archer pretended to be offended. “Who will save me from him?”

Robin threw his head back and laughed. The sounds of merry laughter filled the outlaws’ camp.

“You don’t need to be saved, brother.” Guy laughed, but very quietly, as if to keep his joy well confined.

Marian gazed at Robin, grinning. "Yeah, Robin, you miss court in Poitiers, and so do I. I had been there only once, before you went to war, but I loved it; I often remember royal court when I feel sad.”

Robin smiled with his familiar smile – his charming, warm, tender, and disarming smile, and for a moment, Marian imagined that they were again young. Since his second departure to Acre, Robin never gave her such a sincere smile as the one she could see on his face now. She was bewitched by that smile, like everyone else around the fire, save Guy. A new connection formed between Robin and Marian, but her heart immediately seemed like a bell ringing to remind her that the old life was gone.

Unbeknownst to Marian, Robin felt the connection to Marian’s soul, and a veil of sadness encompassed him as he stared at her. At that moment, his heart was perfectly in accord with hers, and the images of their happy moments flashed in his mind. He could see that they both wanted the old life back despite being disillusioned. Marian still was one of the few living creatures that could make Robin smile and laugh more often and that filled him with a lightness which he lacked since the tragedy in Acre.

Guy watched Marian’s non-verbal interaction with Robin, and he gauged their thoughts – the two of them were mentally journeying to the past. With grim satisfaction, he again began to think that their romance wasn’t over; at least not in their hearts. As he swung his gaze to Megan, he caught himself on the thought that he again admired her beauty. Megan didn’t dream in the way Marian and Robin dreamed about peace and the old days, but there was still so much innocence in her that Guy’s heart hammered harder in joy. Everything in him was absorbed in the sensual delight of looking at Megan.

Guy smiled. “Robin speaks perfect Occitan, and that is a great achievement,” he commented.

Marian glanced at Robin. "Indeed, Robin, your Occitan is perfect. I have known that you speak Occitan. Yet, I have never imagined that you could sing in this language!”

“Yeah, I am a man of many talents,” a proud-hearted Robin answered.

Archer stared at Robin from across the place where he sat. “Actually, Robin, I think that there is a lot in you from the inhabitants of Poitou. You are not a typical Saxon lord.”

Djaq inhaled sharply and silently sent a prayer chant to Allah that no conversation about Robin’s origins would follow. Robin swallowed with difficulty, his mouth suddenly dry as last year’s straw. Marian and Guy gave Robin glances of sympathy and understanding. The others stared at Robin in amazement, waiting for their leader to speak. Carter and Megan chuckled, for they completely agreed with Archer.

“Really?” Robin felt his heart beating so frantically he thought it would burst out of his chest.

“Yes, Robin,” Archer replied; he didn’t notice the tension of Robin’s shoulders. “Brother, you look like a Saxon lord, but you are too hot-blooded and rebellious for a man born in the north of England. You control your emotions very well, but you are a temperamental man. You are a man of action, energetic, restless, and generous, and you have a penchant for theatrics.” He let out a laugh. “Saxons are usually less high-spirited, less passionate, less active, and much more conservative than you have ever been.”

“What else do you think of me, Archer?” Robin looked at his boots, remembering Richard’s words that he had taken much after Queen Eleanor.

Archer laughed lightheartedly. “Brother, why are you embarrassed? I am praising you! Robin, are unique! Your parents are the Saxons, but you are not like them!”

“Well, all people are different,” Marian joined the conversation.

Guy took the initiative and spoke. “There is nothing strange that Robin is different from many other people.” He smiled with a tight smile. “Robin has always been unusual, since childhood.”

Robin glanced at Maria and Guy, giving them a grateful smile; they smiled back at him.

Robin explained, “I am not a pure Saxon lord. My mother… was born in England, but her mother – my grandmother – was from Aquitaine.”

Archer giggled. “Oh, that explains everything!”

Guy addressed his half-brother, “Archer, you have southern blood in your veins too. Your grandmother on a maternal line, Lady Aegida de Bailleul, was from Aquitaine.”

“Oh, that is tremendous! What a lineage I have!” a wonder-stricken Archer cried out.

Megan attentively listened to the conversation. She knew about the Queen Mother’s golden boy, for she had helped Eleanor find Prince John’s spies at court in Aquitaine. She had suspected that Robin of Locksley, Robert de Beaumont, or Roger de Lacy was the Queen Mother’s illegitimate son, but now she began to think that Robin could be the man. Whoever the mysterious man was, the secret was safe with Megan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> It was a transitional chapter when characters have time to discuss certain important things and spend some time relaxing before new battles unfold very soon.
> 
> Guy and Marian had an important conversation about their personal life and about Robin. Marian is very distressed after her frank chat with Robin; then Guy appears in the study. She cannot handle Guy’s sarcasm regarding Robin’s feelings for Melisende and her, and, thus, she lashes out at him; in response, Guy lashes out at her too. This hot argument shows that Marian’s interactions with Guy are always laced with danger and sweetened with sensuality, which doesn’t change even though the characters change.
> 
> I wanted to say a few words about Marian. She no longer lies to Guy, but she doesn’t tell him that she loves Robin because she doesn’t want to cause him more pain. Marian is also very frank and honest with Robin, and she says to him things which she had never told him before, acknowledging that she had been torn between Robin and Guy. Tragedies, especially Robin’s death, disillusioned Marian and made her more mature; now she understands herself better than ever before. I confess that it was difficult to make Marian more mature, more difficult than to have Robin, Guy, and the other characters grow up. 
> 
> I want to say a few words about Marian. She no longer lies to Guy, but she doesn’t tell him that she loves Robin because she doesn’t want to cause him more pain. Marian is also very frank and honest with Robin, and she says to him things which she had never told him before, acknowledging that she had been torn between Robin and Guy. Tragedies, especially Robin’s death, disillusioned Marian and made her more mature; now she understands herself better than ever before. I confess that it was difficult to make Marian more mature, more difficult than to have Robin, Guy, and the other characters grow up. 
> 
> I hope that you liked one short scene between Robin and Marian. So far it seems that it is too late for Robin and Marian to be together because Robin is a married man who will do right by Melisende and Marian, even though he has feelings for them both. Robin will never betray Melisende because he is a man of honor and he loves his wife. But the old flames – his affection for Marian – are still burning bright. As I said, I cannot guarantee that Robin will end up with his wife, but I am not saying that he won’t. There are many interesting “amorous” twists ahead, and one of them is very tragic.
> 
> Obviously, Guy is developing feelings for Megan. Yes, Meg is good for Guy's redemption and, in my opinion, for private life as well. Meg is very wise and more mature than BBC's character, the canonical Meg; this is my deliberate change in her character. Megan gives Guy peace and tranquility which he never had with Marian. Take into account that Guy slowly re-assesses his relationship with Marian by analyzing his feelings for her and by comparing Marian and Megan.
> 
> I deviate from canon: my Robin can sing in Occitan. My Robin is Eleanor of Aquitaine’s illegitimate son, and I wanted him to have something purely Poitevin from her. 
> 
> All the references to the understanding and interpretation of betrothals, pre-contracts, and annulments in canon law are historically correct. In canon law, if marriage was entered into in “good faith”, without bride and bridegroom knowing about certain existing impediments to their union, then it is a marriage in “good faith”. Robin married Melisende when he had no idea that his betrothal to Marian wasn’t officially annulled. Therefore, if Robin would have decided to have his marriage annulled, his son, Richard, would have remained legitimate, which Melisende mentioned. 
> 
> In chapter 9, Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan go on the mission of vital importance. There is a surprise for the readers in the next chapter called “The Rebirth of Evil”.


	9. The Rebirth of Evil

**Chapter 9**

**The Rebirth of Evil**

Morning dawned upon Sherwood Forest, and its soft light crimsoned the summits of trees. Robin, Guy, Archer, Marian, Megan, and their friends woke up at dawn, when Little John asked who was going to accompany him to Locksley to make deliveries. After John, Tuck, Rebecca, and Kate had left the outlaws’ camp, the others sat quietly, bathing in the rosy morning light and watching the forest wake into life.

“We need food,” Djaq said. She looked at Much. “Is breakfast ready, Much?”

Much scowled. “Oh, my lord! I have to cook more food today as there are so many of us here.”

Allan chuckled. “Yeah, I cannot imagine our ever-hungry Much without food even for one day.”

A grinning Robin directed his gaze at Much. “Much, you don’t have to cook again. I can do it!”

A look of shock registered on Much’s face. “Robin, you cannot cook! You cannot be allowed even to approach the kitchen quarters! You will poison everyone with your cooked food! Once in the Holy Land, you cooked for my birthday, and it was impossible to eat that meal! I don’t want you to kill us!”

Everyone burst out laughing, while Robin looked apparently disconcerted.

Robin rubbed his face. “Yeah, something can still make me embarrassed.”

Guy, Archer, and other Robin’s friends exploded with a laugh at Robin’s candid admission. Robin also laughed at himself, and it was a light laugh, an animated laugh of the old Robin.

“Should we talk about our plan?” Archer inquired.

Robin tilted his head and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Good suggestion. It’s time for scheming!”

Robin, Guy, and the others began to discuss Robin’s new plan to steal the treasure from Buckingham’s estates. Robin repeated what he had said in London: Archer, Guy, Allan, and Megan were going on the new mission, with Archer being in charge. Djaq prepared all the herbs and explained how to use them, mainly to Megan who was assigned with the task to play a key role in the plan.

No one saw a shadow behind a tree that disappeared like a spirit when the conversation was over. Robin, Guy, and the others had no clue as to who the eavesdropper was; they couldn’t know that they were better to verify the surroundings before beginning such important discussions.

“It is a brilliant plan,” an impressed Will commented.   

Robin smiled proudly. “There are only three things that can make you win: your thoughts, your actions, and your gumption. I am filled with gumption, and I don’t sit around dissipating and moping about things.”

Everyone laughed with a full heart, their eyes sparkling. Robin was well-known for his sarcasm and his dry, contagious sense of humor, as well as for his theatrical speeches; everyone was accustomed to them and found a special charm in them. Guy, too, was smiling indulgently, his eyes resting on Robin. Moreover, it was fair to cite Robin Hood as the finest example of bravery and gumption.

“Of course, it is the best half-a-plan ever!” Much exclaimed enthusiastically.

Robin flashed a vainglorious smile. “My unique plans always work!” All of a sudden, he grew serious. “I used to be too reckless, too overweening, and too brash, as if tomorrow weren’t coming and yesterday had never happened. But I have become more level-headed and able to discern the true nature of things.”

Silence blanketed the camp, like a gray pall, as if expressing a world of grief over Robin’s disillusionment.

Djaq broke it with her speech of wisdom. “Robin, you can never get the best things in life in haste. God is in no hurry to let you understand your true path; His plans are never rushed.”

The hero of the woods cast his eyes down, as if wrapped in thought. After a moment’s pause, Robin lifted his gaze to Djaq. “Since our return from Acre, I try to not make long-term plans because it is useless. God might always laugh at my plans and steer my life to an unknown path.”

Much’s sad eyes bore into Robin’s. “Robin, don’t be so pessimistic!”

Robin laughed morbidly. “Sometimes, I cannot help but feel so! At the moment, we have so few reasons for joy! The fight with Prince John is dangerous, and I am very apprehensive about the outcome.”

“Robin,” Djaq called. She smiled cordially at him as Robin stared at her. “Never be afraid to trust God that has His plans for you and for all of His children. Unlike many of them, when you will be standing before the Lord at the end of your life, you, Robin, will be able to say that you used all of the talents God gave you to help those in need. You have accomplished so many feats, have had a lot of coups, and have saved many lives that the testimony of your life reads: there is no man like Robin Hood on the face of the whole earth.” Her smile grew wider. “You are a lucky man, Robin Hood!”

A radiant smile effloresced on Robin’s face. “Djaq, your wisdom is a God’s gift,” he stated with conviction. “One manifestation of your wisdom is your ability to delve deeply into my mind.”

Everyone was quiet, listening to the philosophical exchange with undisguised and vivid interest.

“You, Robin, are one of the most difficult men to understand,” Djaq responded in a tone that held the deep affection she had for Robin. “As a clever man, you know that you should turn wounds into wisdom.”

Robin answered in a tone that was hinting of understanding and resignation, “My wounds have already made me wiser and more knowledgeable about this life and this world.” He stilled for a moment, turning to Marian; then he went on. “All wounds.” He noticed Marian blanch and look away, but he didn’t care what she was feeling at his obvious hint at the heart wound she had caused him by marrying Guy.

Carter switched to a philosophical mood as well and entered the conversation. “In Heaven, God won’t judge you for your glorious deeds, but for your good deeds and for scars.”

“Yes,” Robin whispered.

Marian glanced back at Robin; anger and pain were warring in her. Anger won out, and she snapped, “Indeed, all wounds, Robin. Even those inflicted years ago.”

Now there was a silence that shut out all other noises, even Megan’s quiet gasp of amazement. In that silence, the world narrowed to the flaming eyes of Robin Hood and Lady Marian. For a short moment, those who knew Marian and Robin’s love story could see the soft light of unwearied love in their eyes. But then Robin and Marian broke eye contact and peered into the surrounding woodland.

Robin ignored Marian’s statement on purpose. He veered his gaze to Djaq. “Djaq, as a genteel man, a gallant knight, and your friend, I want to thank you for being with me in the darkest days.”

A smile appeared on Djaq’s face. “Robin, it is an honor for me to save England’s hero!”

A laughing Robin bowed his head; then he stared at Djaq. “And it is my honor to be able to use your great knowledge in medicine, Djaq! Your herbs will surely help our friends on their new mission!”

“It is the right decision that you are staying behind, Robin,” Djaq said seriously. “You need to rest.”

“Robin, you have to rest before the battle at Pontefract,” Allan put in.

Everyone, except for Marian who looked as if she were far away, nodded wordlessly.

Much glanced at Robin, then at Guy and grimaced. “Robin, are you sure that I shouldn’t go help?”

Robin shook his head; he didn’t want Much to go because of his friend’s hatred for Guy. “Much, I want you to stay with me.” He swung his gaze to Guy who smiled at him with gratitude.

Much continued cooking. Allan, Djaq, and Will excused themselves and went to the woods for a short stroll. Archer went to the sleeping quarters of the camp, intending to take a nap while breakfast was being cooked. The others were left alone, talking about Prince’s John schemes.

When it seemed that the discussion about the Black Knights wearied everyone, Much felt they needed to change the subject. He stared at Guy. “Gisborne, there is one thing you must know.”

“What?” Guy asked with exasperation, anticipating Much to hurl affronts at him.

“For a few months, I lived at Glasson Manor, in Northampton, after I had left you in Nottingham,” Much began as he took a bowl of soup and tasted it to be sure that it was fine; then he put the bowl on a small table. “The servant maid from Locksley, Annie, lives there with her son.”

Guy hung his head. “Thank you for telling me this.” He wanted to find Annie. However, joining Robin implied that he wouldn’t be able to do that for a while.

Marian sighed heavily, disappointed that Much had mentioned Annie now. Much could have waited a little bit to inform Guy about the particulars of Annie and Seth’s situation without witnesses.

Much’s expression was neutral. “I just wanted you to know that, Gisborne. I meant no offense.”

“Thank you,” Guy said, still looking at his boots.

“Who is Annie?” Megan asked curiously. She could see that Guy’s embarrassment and shame. But if Much had mentioned a boy and a woman, he could have referred to one of Guy’s lovers and his bastard son. She saw nothing criminal in the revelation as many noblemen had mistresses and bastards.

Much snickered. “Ask Gisborne!”

Guy glanced away, ashamed. “I will tell you later, Meg.”

Soon, the meal was ready, and Much proudly declared that today’s breakfast was delicious: this time they had not only some broth and squirrel, but also the stew, venison, and fish. Little John, Tuck, Kate, and Rebecca returned from Locksley; Will, Allan, and Djaq returned from the woods. The meal was served by Much and John; during the breakfast, no clashes and no verbal sparring happened.

After the breakfast, Megan said that she coveted to have a stroll in the woods and to enjoy the woodland fresh air. Marian also wanted to leave, but she stayed, willing to stop Robin’s friends from maligning Guy in her presence. Tuck invited Rebecca and Kate to aid him with mending clothes of peasant children from Locksley, and the two women agreed, not wishing to be close to Guy; Rebecca also felt uncomfortable in Robin’s presence, fearing that her lord would eventually execute his recent threats and eject her from Locksley.

Robin looked at John and asked, “John, don’t you want to join our friends on their new mission?” John didn’t display his animosity towards Guy in public, and he was so strong that he could help a lot.

“I am sorry, Robin. I prefer to stay in Sherwood,” John objected.

Those who witnessed the scene stared at Little John in bewilderment.

Much looked astounded. “Why, John? Lads may need you.”

“I want to take care of the poor instead of going on the mission,” John articulated.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Carter commented dryly, displeased.

“John must have compelling reasons to think so.” Robin’s heart thundered in his chest.

“Yes,” John said shortly.

“John, I know what you mean, but I prefer to hear it aloud,” Robin requested.

John wasn’t surprised by Robin’s shrewdness at all. “Robin, I willingly followed you to the Holy Land and served in the private guard under your command. I developed some affection for King Richard because he is a charismatic man who does really care for his soldiers.” He paused and glanced away. When he looked back at Robin, a silent apology was plainly visible on his face. “But I am a simple man – I am fighting more for the people than for the king. I am not like you, Robin.”

Robin was noticeably discomfited by John’s words and tone. “Are you implying that I am more the king’s man than the defender and hero of the people?”

John shook his head. “No, Robin,” he said, his voice soft and apologetic. “You are both Robin Hood and Robin of Locksley, and everyone wants you to do this and that without asking you whether you can do all these things or not. I understand how difficult it is for you to handle everything simultaneously.” He paused, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. “Yet, I want to say something else because I want to be honest with you. We are saving King Richard, but are we saving England?”

Marian and Guy shared glances of understanding. Much and Carter looked angry but waited for Robin to speak. Archer nodded in agreement. The others were silent, waiting for Robin’s reaction.

“John, watch your tongue,” Carter hissed, looking at John with surprised eyes.

“Shhh, Carter,” Robin said gently, his gaze flying to John. “John, you no longer believe in our king?”

John stiffened. “King Richard always needs to be saved. He hasn’t been in his country for so long, and he won’t come back soon because he was captured in Austria. What will happen next?”

Robin gazed into the distance, his eyes taking in the birds that perched on a nearby meadow. “The king will return even if I have to go to hell. When he is here, we all will lead a normal life.”

“Is that so?” John shrugged his large shoulders.

“You are wrong, John,” Carter barked.

Much was seething with anger, considering John ungrateful and disloyal. “John, your words reflect badly on you! The king pardoned us and was generous to us. What else do you need?”

An utterly embarrassed John was unable to look at Robin and averted his gaze. “I do believe in our liege and I am loyal to him. But he ordered to execute us in Acre, sparing only Robin’s life out of his affection for Robin. The king had only the proof of Robin’s guilt, even though it was a fake one; but in a fit of anger he decided that the people associated with Robin had to die as well.” He sounded more and more agitated as he spoke. “What if the king does the same again?”

“That's enough,” Carter warned. “Stop, John.”

Robin heaved a sigh. The thought that Richard hadn’t believed him on the day of the regicide attempt in Imuiz was still tormenting him. John couldn’t know that Robin was more affected by the king’s decision than the others because he shared blood with the king. A shudder ran up his spine at the memory that his friends could have paid with their lives for Vaisey’s deceit. Richard’s words that the deaths of his friends would be Robin’s punishment for his alleged betrayal of his sovereign haunted him for many days.

Swallowing against the thickness in his throat, Robin forced a smile. “I understand you, John. I don’t condemn you for your thoughts and words.”

A shocked John looked back at Robin. “Robin?”

Carter stared at Robin. Despite his surprise, he managed to keep his voice steady. “The king was deceived by Vaisey, and he had the written proof of Robin’s spurious treachery. It is only the sheriff’s fault.”

As Robin didn’t reprobate John for speaking irreverently about the king, Much decided to speak. “It is the sheriff’s fault, but the king was mad at Robin. He was also harsh and unfair to us.”

Robin smiled glumly. “I didn’t expect that he would order your execution. Vaisey spun a story for the king, and I blame him for our misfortunes, but I cannot deny that Richard… should have been more reasonable that day.”

John gaped in amazement. “Please forgive me, Robin. I have no right to say anything to you after you gave your life for the king that day… while nothing happened to me.”

Robin smiled wanly. “There is nothing to forgive.”

Everyone was stunned, listening to the conversation with bated breath.

Though he was puzzled, John had probably never admired Robin more than he did at the moment. “Robin, I will always follow you. If you want me to go on any mission, I will gladly join you.”

Robin requested, “I ask you to help me free Queen Eleanor from Pontefract Castle.”

“I will do as you wish,” John obeyed, and his leader smiled at him.

“Thank you, John,” Robin replied quietly as he rose to his feet.

Not saying another word, Robin grabbed his quiver and his Saracen bow, and strode into the woods, taking the air of quiet melancholy with him. Much and Carter climbed to their feet and followed Robin.

Walking away from the camp, Robin was looking down, his eyes taking in the green grass and the wild flowers; he could hear the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the forest. They crossed a wide clearing where oaks and meadows crowded a shallow ravine and stopped on the edge of another clearing.

Robin didn’t speak for a long time, staring into the same space. Carter and Much watched their friend.

“Are you alright, Robin?” Much inquired anxiously after a pause.

“I am,” Robin said in a voice that lacked his usual confidence.

Carter was sure that Robin’s sudden mood swing was caused by their argument with John about the king. “Robin, why did you let John speak so disrespectfully about King Richard?

“Robert and I once discussed the king’s missteps,” Robin murmured gloomily.

Carter emitted a sigh. “I discussed the same with him as well.”

Much frowned. “What?”

Robin looked thoughtful, his gaze oscillating between Much and Carter. He took his time in answering. “When I was young, I was convinced that it was a happiness to die saving the king's life, even better to die before his eyes while saving his life. I was really in love with the heroic King Richard, the glory of England, and the hope of our triumph in the Holy Land.”

“But that has changed,” Carter inferred.

“After your death,” Much assumed.

Robin couldn’t lie. “Many things have changed,” he nearly gasped.  His heart flurried with anxiety, and the heat of pain and anger welling up in him. He found himself feeling like his friends who had been strung up in the desert, under the incinerating Eastern sun, at the king’s order. “ _I realized that the king is the main symbol of the nation, but he is not England. The people are England.”_ His throat tightened as a flood of anguish overwhelmed him. “I love my people, but now I have to save the king, again.”

“I know what you mean,” Carter murmured, shifting closer to Robin and looking into his friend’s eyes. “Richard himself is at fault for his misfortunes in Austria. He led himself into a trap.”

“I have no right to judge our king,” Much spoke, amused by the turn of the conversation. “But I confess that I wasn’t happy when the king ordered our execution, not wishing to assume that we were innocent.”

Robin exhaled with frustration. “I don’t blame you, Much.”

Much’s intent eyes showed surprise, but then he nodded. “Gisborne was right at least in something. From the beginning, he claimed that the king didn’t care about the people while we fought for our liege.”

“It is true,” Robin admitted in a nearly decadent voice. “I love Richard… as my king and my friend, and I sacrifice myself for him again if I must.” He repressed a groan as his nails bit into the skin of his palms. “Unlike Richard, I have never liked war fervently, and I have been long battling with my conflicting allegiances to a martial life. I cannot deny that if the king wasn’t absent in England for years, fighting a futile holy war, Prince John wouldn’t have a chance to weave all these conspiracies against Richard. If there were no plots against Richard, we wouldn’t have needed to always save our liege and protect his throne.”

“But he is our king,” Carter uttered in a very low voice. “And we all would die for him.”

“We will do our duty to the king and England,” Much professed.

Robin nodded slowly, his expression dejected. Much and Carter both sighed, becoming sure that Robin was completely disillusioned.

Neither of them had any intention to ever talk about such things with anyone else, preferring to leave such thoughts within a narrow circle of the king’s loyal men. Their hearts and minds were scarred by war and all that had led them to where they were now – in the situation where they were obliged to save the king, whom they loved, once again. And Robin Hood was the most damaged one among them, for he was closer to the king than even Robert de Beaumont was, given Robin’s true relationship with the king.

“Please leave,” Robin said suddenly.

Carter nodded. “Of course, Robin.”

Much’s expression turned into puzzlement. “Robin, did I do something wrong?”

Robin smiled languidly. “No, Much. I just need to be alone. I need to think.”

Much frowned. “Robin, please don’t tell me that you are going to think of Marian. You must–”

“Oh, Much,” Robin interrupted. “I am not thinking of her. At least not now.”

“Is that what I think, Robin? I know what this gaze of yours means.” During their journey from Acre, Carter had seen Robin prefer solitary confinement to everyone’s company many times.

“Yes,” Robin corroborated.

Much looked worried. “What will you do without us, Robin?”

Robin put a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Much, I love you and I need you. But sometimes I need to be alone.” Then he marched off along the forest path through the woods.

“Much, don’t follow him,” Carter exhorted the other man.

Much swallowed nervously, and that hurt his throat. “I won’t.”

§§§

Robin headed to the depths of Sherwood which he knew so well since his childhood. He was planning to have a target practice there, which always let him work off his anger.

He stopped near a tall, branchy oak; he unshouldered his bow and pulled a fistful of arrows from his quiver. Taking ten arrows out of the quiver, he measured a considerable distance from the tree and took his Saracen bow in his hands. He shot one arrow that struck the trunk of the oak exactly where he had aimed; the second arrow split the first arrow in half, and the same happened with the remaining arrows.

"Bravo, Sir Robin," Tuck said as he appeared behind Robin unexpectedly.

Robin recognized Tuck’s voice without looking at the monk, inwardly releasing a sigh of annoyance. At last, he turned to face the friar. “Do you want to give me a new sermon, Friar Tuck?”

Tuck smiled. “No, I don’t, Sir Robin.”

“Good. That’s for the better.”

“I just wonder whose face you are imagining before releasing an arrow.”

Robin sighed. Tuck had a shrewd mind, and he was sure that the monk understood that he imagined his arrow penetrate Vaisey’s skull. “It is none of your business, Tuck.”

“You will never begin to like me, Sir Robin? I only want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” Robin growled. “If you keep saying this, I will use you for my target practice.”

Instead of being offended, Tuck looked sympathetically at Robin. “Young man, your heart is full of pain and doubts. I cannot take away your pain, but I can assist you in having your head cleared.”

Robin turned his blank eyes to Tuck. His eyes were so empty and cold that Tuck shivered. “You cannot help me decide what whom I need to be – Robin Hood or Robin of Locksley. Nobody can help me.”

Tuck moved towards Robin with a slow, shuffling gait, and stopped beside him. “Why, Sir Robin?”

“Robin,” a correction followed.

The monk let out a smile. “Robin Hood.”

“I am only Robin.” The bow slipped from his hand, and Robin took a step back, holding the monk’s gaze.  “You know nothing about me.”

“I know that you want to fight for the people and the king. But you don’t know how to set priorities.”

Robin laughed bitterly. “The king will always be my first priority.”

“It is only your choice, Robin. You can bring the king home and then devote your life to the people as Robin Hood should do.”

"No! It is not my choice!” the hero cried out miserably. “It is God’s choice!”

Tuck frowned, having no clue as to what Robin meant. "It is only your choice.”

"No," Robin breathed. “It was God’s decision that I am the Queen Mother’s illegitimate son.”

Tuck’s astonishment was so great that he felt as if a divine spirit were enshrined in Robin’s now blazing eyes that stared at him with a fathomless gaze. “How can it be true?”

Robin sighed. “It is true, Tuck. But you must never divulge this secret to anyone.”

Tuck nodded meekly; his expression became sympathetic as he crossed himself. “My lips are sealed!”

“My conflict of loyalties cannot be resolved. I will always stay at Richard’s side,” Robin continued in a colorless tone. “At times, I think that it would have been better if I didn’t know the truth.”

“Robin, God will guide you through the Holy Spirit if you are seeking His will,” the friar said simply.

Robin swept his eyes over the surroundings. The left side of the clearing was in the shade of the trees; the right side gleamed in the sunlight. He glanced back at Tuck and inquired, “Tuck, do you want to serve in the church in Locksley after the king’s return?”

The monk rewarded Robin with a smile. “I would be grateful for that, Robin.”

Robin added, “You won’t see me often because I am not going to reside in Nottinghamshire.” He crouched and grabbed the bow and quiver of arrows. Then, making a small, formal bow, he walked into the forest, determined to continue his target practice somewhere else.

“God bless you, Robin Hood,” Tuck said, gazing after the hero who soon blended with the greenwood.

Meanwhile, Marian and Guy had left the camp and were now strolling in the woods, listening to twittering birds and contemplating the beauty of the blossoming foliage in the spring sun. The morning sun shone brightly through the trees; there was no breeze, and there was hardly a cloud in the sky.

 As they reached a familiar clearing, Marian stopped abruptly and disentangled her hand from Guy’s.  “Let’s go to another place,” she requested in a low, trembling voice.

Marian glanced around, her eyes focused on the carpet of the green grass that clothed the ground and in the trees fringing the clearing. As her gaze fell on the meadow where she and Robin had met many times in the past, her heart began to writhe in her chest as unutterable agony besieged her entire being. There, near that meadow, Robin had confessed to loving her for the first time, and there she had last seen him before his departure to the Crusade more than seven years ago. On this clearing, under that meadow, Robin had taken Marian’s maidenhead on the day of her father’s death.

She smiled dreamily, and her lips tingled at the memory of Robin’s kisses. A pleasant heat filled her as she envisioned herself wrapped in Robin’s arms, imagining the heavenly feeling of his skin against hers, his scent of woodland, horses, and earth mixed with hers, his tongue dancing with hers. As visions of Robin kissing and caressing her continued to resurface in her mind, the heat in her body was becoming like an incandescent flame, most of it concentrated on her desire to experience these sensations once again. Her heart was dead within her for grief and despair at the thought that Robin wasn’t hers.

“Marian?” a dumbfounded Guy called.

Marian swung her gaze to Guy. For a long moment, she didn’t speak, shrouded in the sweet memory of her first time with Robin. Finally, she pulled herself together and whispered, “Guy, I want to leave this place. The forest is large, and we can go somewhere else.”

Guy nodded slowly. “Fine. Let’s go to the river.”

Marian chose the shortest path to the River Trent, and soon they were slowly walking along the shore. All along, Guy watched Marian, marveling at the sight of her beautiful, vigorous body, her sapphire and now thoughtful eyes, her full lips, and her enigmatic smile that was made him wonder what she was thinking about.

He was impressed that Marian knew the forest so well. But he reminded himself then that she had been the Nightwatchman for a long time and had spent a lot of time in Sherwood in childhood, with Robin. And then the realization dawned upon him why Marian had wished to leave that clearing: the place should have been connected with Robin. Bitterness gnawed at his heart, but, to his astonishment, there was no pain.

Guy stopped and grabbed Marian’s arm, making her pause. “Why were you so adamant about leaving that place, Marian?”

Marian couldn’t tell him the truth. “Just memories. Don’t ask me anything else.”

"How wonderfully you put it!” he exclaimed impulsively. “You were with Robin on that clearing!”

She blushed profusely. She had to deny it. “You are wrong, Guy.”

Her embarrassment confirmed Guy’s suspicions. Both pity and rage churned in his stomach – pity for Marian’s obvious misery and rage at her refutation of the fact. “It always inevitably comes back to Robin. I used to think that I should ignore your existing ties to him, but I cannot do this anymore.” He raised his voice, letting his anger spill out. “Robin is a married man, Marian! You cannot be with him!”

Marian’s anger spiked, instigating her to step aside. “I know that very well!”

“The more I watch you, the more puzzled I am becoming, Marian.”

Marian turned to the river. “I told you that you don’t know me.”

Guy looked frustrated. “I always learn something new about you. I knew nothing about your relationship with Robin; I had no idea that you were betrothed to him after his return.” He shrugged. “I had no idea that you were the Nightwatchman either, and I was angry when I learned the truth. At first, I blamed you for your deceits, but then I tried hard to understand you, and I realized that you wanted to help the people.”

Her anger abated, and she smiled faintly. “I am blameworthy too, Guy.”

“I accepted your past with Robin, but I feel that I still don’t understand your mind.”

“No, you don’t.”

Guy gazed at her dismally. “Why is it happening to us, Marian? Why?”

Marian heaved a sigh. “Maybe you have failed to puzzle me out because my heart and mind are as dense as Sherwood, but it is not your fault,” she said. “You are a good man, Guy. Being with me would have been a self-punishment for you. And you deserve a woman who is better than me.”

He shook his head. “No! Don’t say this!”

She looked into his eyes and continued her unrelenting course on making him disillusioned, “It took me much time to understand the difference between love and obsession.”

“And did you realize the difference?” He feared to hear the answer.

Marian sucked in her breath. “Yes, I did.” She stared fixedly at a nearby oak. “Love is more a state of living, and it doesn’t fade away for a long time, not even after long separations. When you love someone, it is pretty effortless and only enjoyable; it is true and pure – you don’t need your loved ones to be exactly like you want them to be.” She looked back at him and smiled sadly. “Does that make sense to you?”

Guy swallowed heavily. “Please speak.”

She regretted that her words made him feel discontented, but she had to continue. “You loved me and wanted to possess me. You loved having me in your life, and… I liked having you in mine. We had our moments of passion and happiness.” She paused, searching for words. “But every time you learned something new about me, you were outraged, feeling like suffocating in our marriage.”

Guy remembered how he felt when he had learned about her exploits as the Nightwatchman and the truth about her relationship with Robin. He had been secretly proud of Marian who had been defying the sheriff for at least three years in secret. But when he had discovered that she had been twice betrothed to Robin before marrying him, he had wished to kill Marian; he had been furious, but he had forced himself to accept the truth, overlooking it against his will. These revelations didn’t make him happy.

“But I accepted your past,” he said quietly.

“You accepted it with difficulty,” she amended. “Or have you truly done that?”

Guy was literally stunned as if he were concussed. “I don’t know.”

Marian mustered her courage to speak. “Guy, you may _love me_ , or you may also _love the idea of me_. What is your case, Guy?” she inquired in a strangely soft voice.

Guy felt numb and empty. Yet, there was some newly found, painful clarity in his head. He loved Marian obsessively and devastatingly when his heart had desperately craved redemption. There always was the element of idealization in their relationship; after all of the revelations, there was a genuine appreciation of her as well, but never the full acceptance of her true self. For an overwhelming amount of time, their relationship was not about enjoyment and happiness: there was too much pain and doubt in their hearts.

With a small smile, Marian articulated slowly, “Think about what I said for your own good.” Then she spun around and stalked into the woods.

Guy remained standing there for a long time, his heart torn between the present and the past, his mind whirling in a million directions, all of them leading to Megan for some peculiar reason. Then he started walking along the shore of the river and soon dived into the woods.

After wandering aimlessly for a while, Marian returned to her and Robin’s clearing. She stopped near the meadow and stared down fixedly, exactly in the same place on the ground where Robin had been making love to her. Her heart thumped harder, and a delightful dizziness blanketed her as ambrosial memories slowly shaped themselves into the sweetest dream that would never come true. The heat in her body was growing, as if she were stirred by a muse of temptation. The thought that she wanted to be Robin’s again flashed in her mind; that wish became an intense desire, the thought of a life perhaps.

As her mind meandered over the events of the afternoon when she had become a woman, Marian didn’t notice Robin enter the clearing and stop a small distance from her. It wasn’t difficult for him to fathom why she was standing near that meadow. Remembrance flooded him as he looked over Marian, then directed his gaze at the meadow, and then lingered it on the ground, where he had once made her his, with her permission and after her appeal to him. Their first time didn’t happen on the wedding night in Locksley Manor, as they had planned; and it was their last time as well.

“Are you reminiscing about that afternoon, Marian?” Robin asked in a throaty voice, struggling to keep it devoid of the tempestuous emotions bubbling in his chest.

Marian turned around and stared at Robin. Her whole body was trembling, and her heart was thundering like the feet of a stampeding herd. There was also a precipitant excitement in her at seeing him in this place. Apparently, he was thinking of her despite the powerful bonds which bound him to another woman – his wife, Melisende. She eyed Robin, noticing that he was wearing his bow and empty quiver on his back; definitely, he had been having a target practice before discovering her accidentally.

Her eyes full of longing she couldn’t conceal, she parried, “And what about you, Robin? Aren’t you remembering that day in spite of being married to another woman?”

He closed the distance between them and stopped beside her. Having deciphered the yearning for him in her eyes, he sighed grievously. “You don’t need to coax a secret out of me, Marian,” he said huskily, gazing into her eyes warmly. “I admit that I remember that afternoon very often; more often than I should.”

“Robin… I…” The words died on her lips.

Robin smiled mirthlessly. “Don’t you know that it is difficult to forget the old days, Marian?”

“Robin…” Her voice came to a halt as she felt his warm hand on her shoulder.

"Ah, Marian!” he exclaimed with a hint of sarcasm. “You know that very well! You are half in love with the old life, and half in love with the oblivion you covet to find because in that oblivion you may feel at peace.”

Marian wanted to scream that she was in love with him, but she knew that the consequences of her confession might be mortifying. She flicked his hand away and listened to it flop to his side. Glaring at him belligerently, she riposted, “You presume you know too much about me, Robin of Locksley.”

He chuckled. “I would love to roll my eyes at you, Marian of Knighton; but I won’t.”

“Grow up, Robin!” she cried out, her eyes flashing like bolts of a lightning.

Robin laughed outright, his laugh echoing across the clearing. “Yeah, we rarely spoke the truth to each other, and instead of being sincere with me, you preferred to chastise me.” He took a step to her. “Yet, in my eyes you are a terrible liar. I can feel that you are clinging to the old days, like it is happening to me.”

His astuteness irritated her. “Robin, your clever head and your noble heart are a formidable weapon in the fight for justice. But it is one thing to be smart and another to be wise.”

He sniggered. “So I am not wise.”

“No, you are not.”

“And now you will say that I need to grow up.”

“I think so.”

Robin made another step to her. “Then, you need to grow up too.”

Marian took a step back from him, leaning against the trunk of the meadow. He was dangerously close, and, to make matters worse, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. “No,” she whispered.

He smiled wistfully. “It seems that we are back to the old days against our will.”

“Yes,” she admitted breathlessly.

He took her hand in his and kissed it in a chivalrous manner. “I am trying to forget the past, but the truth is that it has never been out of my thoughts. At times, I think that my childhood and the months of my life in the woods will remain the happiest days in my whole life.” He made a quick perusal of the clearing and then looked back at her. “Marian, don’t you know that beneath the leaves of all these trees and in all the greenery around us beats a heart of the glorious past that loves and suffers like our own hearts do?”

She squeezed his hand and smiled broken-heartedly. “I can feel the beating of this heart in my own chest, Robin.” She laced her fingers with his. “But these days are gone, and we have to look ahead.”

Robin stroked her fingers with his thumb. “We should shut out the past, even all the bright days.”

Tears sprang into her eyes. “We have to forget even those whom we love and reverence.”

Sighing regretfully, he pulled free of the seductive contact and took a step back. “We have to forget them, heedless of their beauty and the happiness they once gave us. Otherwise, we will doom ourselves to pain.”

Marian sniffed, tears running down her cheeks. Her face was a cameo of grief, giving away that her world was turning to cinders. “Haven’t I already doomed us, Robin? Haven’t I already destroyed everything good we could have by marrying another man, your worst enemy?”

Robin wasn’t sure that it was a suitable moment for frankness, but he wanted her to know the truth about her betrothal agreement with the Earl of Buckingham and her old betrothal to him. “You were never truly married to Gisborne.” Then he told her what Melisende had shared with him.

Her tear-stained eyes widened in shocked astonishment as the truth sank in. “So my father wasn’t planning to marry me off to this traitor because I was… still betrothed to you…”

His face was a personification of immense sadness. “Yes. You have understood me correctly.”

“Where is our betrothal agreement now?” She trembled in the wild fever of expectation.

“I burnt it to ashes,” he articulated slowly. “It is for the better.”

Shaken and chagrined, Marian dissolved into tears. She trembled, and her eyes shone a brilliant blue as fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. “It was the right thing to do.”

Robin’s eyes were dry, but his heart was breaking. “It is for the better,” he repeated.

She glanced away, her eyes flickering around the clearing. “You chose her,” she forced the words to come out. “I understand you, Robin. Lady Melisende is your wife, and you love her. You are too honorable to leave your family. You–” She broke off abruptly. Her shoulders slumped, and she slipped to the ground.

For a moment, Robin stood rooted to the spot, watching Marian sob. His heart was sore on account of her distress. He should have forestalled her emotional breakdown before beginning to talk about their betrothal agreement. He rushed to her and eased himself on the grass next to her.

He cupped her face with his hands, and his thumbs tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks. He gazed into her eyes admiringly. “Marian, you exemplify strength, bravery, and resilience! There are so many feats that attest to your strength of will!” He smiled at her tragically, his thumb caressing her face. “You will cope and survive! Life does go on, and you will find your peace and place in the world.”

Marian cupped his face like he had done with hers a few moments ago. Looking into his eyes, she ran the pad of her finger over his stubble, his jaw, and his lips. Her lachrymose eyes unveiled her despondency, and she swallowed a sob. “Without you, my life has become too dark, and it is only my fault.”

Staring into her tearful eyes, Robin thought that _his beautiful Marian_ was noble-minded despite her betrayal of their love. _No, she wasn’t his anymore!_ He couldn’t think so! She would never be his again! Nevertheless, at this very moment, he realized that he would never forget Marian. His longing for the old days and his lingering affection for Marian were eternal, like Sherwood Forest was.

“You will cope and survive,” he reiterated with conviction.

Taking control over her emotions, Marian replied, “I will be fine on my own.”

Robin blew out a sigh of relief. “I am sure you will choose the right path, Marian.”

“I will,” she assured him and herself.

He removed his hands from her face, and rose to his feet. “We shouldn’t stay alone from here on out.”

“You are right, Robin.”

“Take care of yourself, Marian,” he said. Then he walked away about without a backward glance.

Robin didn’t see Marian tilt her head back and look up, at the endless blue canvas. Even if she appealed to the Lord to give her and Robin a second chance, her solicitations wouldn’t be answered. Then she crossed herself, asking God to forgive her for such sinful thoughts, for she didn’t wish Melisende dead. Now she had her freedom and her own cause, and maybe choosing her freedom was the best thing she had ever done.

§§§

Strolling in the woods without trying to get anywhere, Guy felt as if Sherwood were an unfriendly place; he felt as lonesome as he had probably felt during the dark years of his service to Vaisey. His thoughts were reverting to Megan, not to Marian, and he was suddenly consumed with fervent desire to see her.

He discovered Megan on one of the clearings. She sat on the grass, under a willow and near a forest stream, her eyes focused on the sky. She didn’t know that Guy was watching her for an age-long moment, her gaze taking in a few clouds colored in brilliant red and orange by the rays of the sun. With her dark, long hair, falling down her back in gorgeous disarray, dressed in a dark green gown that was too elaborate for living in the forest, Megan looked like a forest nymph.

“Meg!” Guy called, smiling with an amicable smile.

“Guy!” Megan said, not looking at him; she recognized his voice.

Guy approached her and stopped, his eyes taking in her peaceful face. She looked so lovely in the glowing sunlight that the world seemed overwhelmingly beautiful and perfect. Suddenly, he no longer felt lonely; airiness filled his entire being. He felt in himself a new force opposing evil and bringing goodness into the world. Megan gave Guy hope, like Marian had done before.

Involuntary, Guy compared Megan to Marian. Both women were beautiful and unconventional in all ways. Yet, Megan was more mature and wiser, although Marian matured a great deal after the tragic events of the last year. There was no confusion in Megan’s head, and she knew what she wanted and what she felt. Marian had been confused whom she wanted for too long, and there was no clarity in her head even now, he thought; he didn’t know that Marian had spared him pain by not disclosing that she loved Robin. Guy was attracted to Megan’s mature attitude to life and to her high moral code.

Now, when he stood so close to Megan, Guy felt something different from what he felt while being near Marian. He enjoyed her company and their friendship. He didn’t feel as if he were walking on eggshells, worrying that he might displease her by doing something not as great as Robin Hood would do. There was no struggle between them and no pain in their relationship, and he saw his life in bright colors, as if all the light of the world, all the grace and beauty, became natural parts of her life. He didn’t want to entirely possess Megan – he needed her company and wanted to have her by his side.

“What are you doing here, Meg?”

“I wanted solitude and found this place.” She still watched the movement of the clouds.

“I also had a stroll with Marian, but then she left me.”

Megan turned pale at these words; she was relieved that Guy didn’t see her face at the moment. “I see.” She finally turned her eyes to him.

“Meg, you were alone for such a long time. Aren’t you in the need of someone’s company?”

Her mouth curved in a smile. “I am never lonely! If you are not with anyone, you totally belong to yourself, and no one trenches upon your freedom and independence.”

“Your independence is undeniably precious to you, and it makes you who you are – a unique lady,” Guy commented, and his sincerity was unmistakable. "I was looking forward to seeing you,” he added.

An enigmatic smile spread across her face. “When I was a small girl, my father and I often spent time outdoors watching clouds in the sky. Father also told me that clouds are passing across havens like people are wandering in labyrinths of this world.”

Guy settled on the grass next to her. “Your father was a wise man, and you grew up a wise woman.”

“Yes, he was.” Her expression changed into sorrow at the thought of her murdered father before turning blank. “When I watched clouds with my father, he didn’t know one thing about me.” She smiled. “I dreamed that one day a brave man would become my own hero and become my husband. In my dreams, he was tall and muscular, with dark hair and a well-defined jawline. In my dreams, this man was blue-eyed because my own eyes are blue. I imagined that his smile would brighten the world. I dreamed that he would take my hand, and together we would go to an unknown world of beauty and love.”

Guy smiled kindly at her. “I like this dreaming side of you.”

"Wait." Megan lifted her hand. “And what was your dream?”

He heaved a sigh. “After my banishment from Locksley, throughout many years, I dreamed only of taking my revenge on Robin and his father,” he responded bitterly. “But there was also another dream. I dreamed that one day I would find a young and pure woman, with an innocent and honest soul, who would love me for who I am. I wanted to marry her, to make her happy, and to have children with her.”

Megan gazed away, peering into the greenwood. “And you found her. This woman is Marian.”

He hesitated for a few moments. Then, with a pained look on his face, he spoke. “I thought that Marian was the lady of my dreams, but I must admit that I was mistaken. She had never been as pure as the woman in my dream was, but I loved her anyway.”

Her heart started beating faster. “Then, you may be happy with her.”

Guy sighed. Could he be happy with Marian when she was so different from what he wanted her to be? He didn’t have the answer. “I begin to doubt that there would be no shadows of the past between Marian and me,” he said hoarsely. “Or maybe I am too tired and too melancholic now.”

Megan was silent. What could she say? She knew the story between Marian and Guy, and she thought that Guy’s conclusion was certainly right. But she had no right to interfere. “You will think of it later.”

“Yes, I will.”

“My father often said: if you expect the worst, you will never be disappointed. That’s why you should be positive and never think of bad things which might happen in your life.”

“It is a wise approach.”

“Naturally.”

“What about your mother, Meg? Do you have any memories of her?”

She shook her head in denial, a sorrowful look on her face. “My mother died in childbirth, and I never saw her. My father never remarried, and that’s why I was his only daughter.”

Guy uttered sympathetically, “I am sorry that my words hurt you.”

“Don’t apologize, Guy, when you are not guilty.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She gave him a dazzling smile. “I have no doubt.” She slightly narrowed her eyes, playfully. “You really think that I am wise?” She was somewhat astonished to hear that from him.

“Yes. You are very clearheaded and mature for your age, Meg.”

“But what makes you suppose so?”

Guy flashed a smiled. “I have known you for several months, and I spoke to you very often when we were imprisoned. You told me many things about yourself, and I did the same. We became friends.”

She shrugged eloquently. “I always try to learn more about myself before learning something new about the world. Then I use this knowledge to adorn myself with eminence, dignity, and greatness.”

He scoffed. “You never adorn yourself. You are not a liar.”

“Well, I guard my emotions, and it is also a sort of lie. I grew up at court, and I can do it very well.”

“You have to wear a mask when you are at court,” he pointed out.

Megan breathed out a sigh of frustration. “Yes, I have to do it, so I am also a hypocrite to some extent, although I do try not to lie in important and life-changing situations even for the benefit of King Richard and Queen Eleanor. If I can avoid lying, I don’t lie; but I will most certainly lie in most critical situations.” She laughed, ignoring the aching pain in her legs from sitting in the same position for a long time. “So you cannot say that I am entirely honest, but maybe I am wise just because I understand myself very well.”

Guy laughed at her. “Oh, Meg, when you come up with a new idea or start throwing your witty barbs at me and everyone, nobody and nothing can stop you.”

“Guy, it seems that you remembered my words, and it is good for you,” she retorted with a slow smile. “Now you will never trench upon my independence, and I won’t have to push you away.”

“Well, let’s not talk about it again, for I will never forget that,” he surrendered. “I don’t want to be unlucky and lose such a friend as you.”

Megan winked at him. “Then we have a deal.”

“Yes, we do.” Guy’s voice was joyful.

As Guy and Megan walked in the direction of the camp, there was the sudden crashing of boughs, which could be heard occasionally in the depths of the forest, announced that someone was roaming through the underbrush. And then Allan and Kate emerged; they alone and looked quite disheveled after spending some time in the bushes, hiding from Isabella’s men and talking about Kate’s treachery.

“Hey, mates, it is such a good day!” Allan greeted, smiling widely.

“Allan, it is good to see you.” Guy’s gaze fixed on Kate, and he forced a smile. “And you, Kate, too.”

“Of course, Gisborne,” Kate forced the words to come out. She had done as Robin had suggested: she had confessed to Allan about her betrayal of Guy and had explained her motives, and she was surprised to find understanding in him. They hadn’t discussed private life yet.

Megan laughed. “Allan, you look as if you had again fallen from a horse.”

Allan laughed back. “Meg, you look less angry today than on the day of our first meeting in the bewitched woods and, thus, lovelier.”

Megan chuckled. “You are a cheeky rogue, Lord Rochdale, right?”

A laughing Allan nodded vigorously. “Yes, I am.”

Guy eyed Kate with interest, then shifted his gaze to Allan. “It seems that you, Allan, don’t lose time in vain. As soon as you recovered, you began to woo village girls.”

“Guy, this is not what you think,” Allan said in a strangely soft tone.

At Guy’s words, Kate staggered and almost fell. Allan rushed to her and supported her. As Allan wrapped his arm around her waist, she clasped her hands firmly together with a visible effort. He guessed that Kate was shocked to see Guy after their long conversation about Guy’s capture by Prince John’s guards.

“I am alright, Allan,” Kate assured him; but her voice lacked confidence.

Allan looked anxious. “Kate, we should return to the camp. Djaq will examine you.”

“I am alright,” Kate repeated as she pulled her gaze from Allan to Gisborne. “Gisborne, I told Allan why you had spent many months in the dungeons. I wanted Allan to know the unsavory truth that I, however, don’t find a bad one.” She narrowed her eyes. “But it doesn’t mean that I regret doing what I did.”

“Oh,” Guy breathed, exasperated.

“What an achievement,” Megan commented sarcastically; she knew the story of Kate’s betrayal.

Allan sighed. “Kate, you did not do right by Guy when you informed Prince John about his whereabouts.”

“And Gisborne did something worse: he murdered Matthew!” Kate screeched.

Megan and Guy stood in silence, watching the exchange and not wishing to interfere.

"Kate," Guy addressed the blonde girl. “I committed many heinous crimes when I served Vaisey, and I will probably never atone for them.” He heaved a sigh. “I regret that I killed your brother. If I could take it back, I would have done that. But I am not God, and I cannot resurrect Matthew.”

“Liar! Liar!” Kate screeched.

Allan didn’t wish to argue with her, but he wanted her to understand something. "Kate, you should never betray anyone again,” he said in a preaching tone.

“He deserves death,” Kate spat as she disentangled herself from Allan quickly.

Allan gave Kate a thoughtful look and stood in silence for a moment, as though trying to make up his mind about something. Finally, he said, “I betrayed Robin, and I learned my lesson – even an innocent betrayal can have. You should also learn your lesson.”

Guy sighed with aggravation but said nothing. Allan had betrayed not only Robin, but also him, but he had a hunch that in Allan’s eyes his betrayal of Robin was a far worse crime than that of Guy.

"Oh! Heavens!” Kate cried out, staring at Allan with a challenge. “How can you admit a thought that I can forgive Gisborne? You cannot forgive a murderer of your loved ones!”

Allan affirmed, “Kate, you don’t know Guy. He is not a bad man. He was just misguided.”

Kate laughed acidly. “Really?”

Allan nodded. “Yes.”

“It is not a reason for killing and terrorizing innocents; nothing can justify that,” Kate confronted Allan. “Gisborne oppressed the villagers for years when Sir Robin was in the Holy Land. He destroyed many lives and left a trail of dead bodies in his wake, on top of the obvious fact that he cut countless limbs, fingers, and tongues of the peasants in Locksley and in other villages. That cannot be forgotten, forgiven, and repaired.” Her voice became a hiss. “He killed my brother in cold blood.”

No one likes to be on the receiving end of castigation, but Guy knew that he deserved Kate’s hatred. “I know the list of my crimes. You cannot forgive me, but I cannot forgive myself either.”

Kate’s eyes blazed with anger. “You deserve all possible torments, Gisborne.”

“Kate, even Robin has accepted Guy,” Allan emphasized. “They are allies now.”

Kate shook her head. “I cannot tolerate Gisborne, and even if Lord Robin extended his forbearance to him, I never will.” She glowered at Guy. “My skin crawls in disgust in the presence of this immoral bastard whose hands are dirty in blood.” Then she stalked into the woods, her head high and proud.

“I will find her, and I will talk sense into her,” Allan avowed.

With a twisted expression, Megan opened her mouth to say something else, but Guy shook his head. He took Megan’s hand and led her away towards the outlaws’ camp.

It wasn’t difficult for Allan to catch up with Kate, and soon the two of them were heading to the camp. “Kate, we have to talk. I want you to accept Guy as one of Robin’s men,” Allan admonished.

Kate tossed her head in disagreement. “I cannot.”

Allan grinned. “And if I request that you do that for me? I am not asking you to forgive Guy, but I am asking you to accept him in our lives.”

A confused girl blinked. “Why, Allan?”

“Guy is my friend, and I like him.” He took a step towards her and she stopped; then he placed his hands on her shoulders. “And I am not being funny, but I want to say something I never said in my life.”

“Oh! And what is it?”

“I… am asking you to marry me.” He smiled timidly.

Kate stared at him in startled awe. “What?”

“I ask you to marry me,” Allan repeated, smiling blithely. “Well, I am gonna say that I deserve to have a good wife, and you are worthy of having a good husband.” He grinned boldly. “I think that I am good enough for a marriage: I own the lands King Richard restored on my name, and I have my famous biography in Sherwood. I am not as heroic as Robin, but I am one of Robin Hood’s men.”

“Young man,” she replied with a playful smile. “Your words don’t please me.” Her eyes danced with imps of joy. “Robin Hood is an irresistible rogue, but I don’t need him.”

Allan knelt before her, gazing into her eyes warmly. "Will you marry me, Kate?” he asked again, his expression hopeful, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Frankly, you embarrass me,” Kate drawled, “but I will marry you even tomorrow!”

Allan bounced to his feet and pulled Kate into his arms. Looking into her surprised eyes, he kissed her on the mouth, softly and affectionately, giving her kisses of warmth and trying to reign in his passion. Then they parted, there was comfort and lightheartedness between them, and they both began laughing.

He cupped her face and let his mouth hover over hers, as if he were teasing her. “It is not gonna be funny for me to say this,” he said in a slightly trembling tone. “Believe me that I have become an honest man, although I once was a liar, a poacher, and a thief.” He smiled naughtily. “Some dissipation, gambling, and theft were essential parts of my life in the past, but I am a different man now.”

She laughed delightfully. “I like your cheerful and playful nature.”

He brushed a strand of blond hair from her forehead. “Let’s hope you will never be bored with me.”

“I will never grow tired of you, Allan. This is impossible!”

He suddenly looked very serious. “And that’s why I beseech you to accept Guy. Do this for me.”

After a moment’s pause, Kate surrendered. “I will be civil towards him, but I cannot forgive him.”

Allan responded, “Thank you.”

“Only for you,” she stressed, although she had no idea how even to tolerate Guy.

Kate and Allan stood locked in a tight embrace for a while, talking about their future. Allan promised to take her to the lands that had once belonged to his family. Kate listened to him enthusiastically, thinking that she was one of the luckiest girls in the world because she had captured his heart and he had proposed to her. They had a very deep affection for one another, and they both wanted to settle down: Kate was itching to marry a good man who could protect her and provide for her, and Allan wished to have the lady of a manor, although she was also attracted to Allan’s privileged position.

Allan threw his head back and looked upward, at the gray sky. “It is going to rain heavily soon.”

“Let’s return to the camp,” she suggested.

The sky rumbled, a black lightning shot across the darkening canvas, and stormy clouds unleashed a curtain of rain. Holding each other’s hands, Kate and Allan ran under a heavy downpour of rain, laughing and feeling exhilarated at the wonderfulness of the day. When they returned to the camp, they were soaked to the bone, but didn’t rush to change their clothes, as if they didn’t care about anything, aside from of their happiness that overshadowed the nastiness of the weather.

§§§

Prince John had a secret private audience with his guest in the library. He was pacing the chamber back and forth, his arms folded over his chest. To his guest, who sat comfortably in a high-back chair near the hearth, it was clear that John was in low spirits, for the prince’s cold attitude and nervousness alluded to a storm of emotions brewing inside him. Dressed in black trousers and a black tunic, a large black hood that entirely covering his face, the guest sat in silence, waiting for the prince to talk.

John ceased pacing and stopped near a large wooden shelf that was full of books; he would have given everything for not being with the other man in the same room. John didn’t know what to do next because Robin Hood had not only squelched all of his plans but also had brought many troubles into the prince’s life.

“Well, really, this is a great time for the meeting!” Prince John grumbled.

“Sire, do you mean that Robin Hood came back from the dead with pomp and triumph?” The man was surprised and angry to learn that Robin had returned to England alive. It was the last thing he had anticipated, although he wasn’t as astonished and shocked as Prince John and the Black Knights were.

“It is really hilarious. I am sure that you would have never guessed that Huntingdon had survived if he hadn’t appeared on the feast and ruined everything, with the help of my cousin, Melisende, and his friends.” 

“Yes,” the man admitted, sighing.

“You failed to kill Hood like everyone else – he has always bested you. You failed me, your sovereign, too many times.” The prince enjoyed humiliating the older man, like he enjoyed insulting anyone who had ever disappointed him.

“Gisborne was also there, wasn’t he?” the man asked in a barely controlled voice; he loathed Hood for his survival, but he still hated Gisborne more for his betrayal.

John laughed morosely. “Hood and Gisborne became allies. Hood stopped Gisborne’s execution. Now they are fighting together to bring my brother back to England.”

“It is unexpected, to say the least,” the man replied in a chilly tone.

“We failed to rid ourselves of Gisborne who betrayed you and me; it is ultimately your fault.”

“Well, I am not related to Gisborne’s escape. I wasn’t in Nottingham at that time.”

John sighed, his features softened. “I know that you were very sick after this Judas had stabbed you, but it is not the justification for your other failures.”

The man removed his hood, and Prince John stared into the sneering face with a stubble gray beard. Everything in the second man’s face – the clearly marked wrinkles on his cheeks and his forehead, the malicious grimace on his lips, the jeweled teeth gleaming between his lips, the demonic fire flaring up in his eyes, and the reflection of the ebony blackness of his heart in his gaze – all was peculiarly frightening, and the man was fully aware of that, rejoicing in the knowledge. He was Lord Peter Vaisey, the former Sheriff of Nottingham, who had barely survived the stab wound Guy had given him five months ago.

Vaisey had been hidden for a long time; his grievous wound in his chest had been tended to by John’s physician. Vaisey and Isabella had foreseen that Guy would return to England and would try to kill his former master after the events in Acre, and they had hastily invented a plan to cast the blame for Robin’s death and for the attempted regicide in Imuiz on Guy.  John had liked their idea and had accepted it.

Vaisey had gone further: he had proposed to accuse Guy of murdering him, suspecting that his former henchman would pledge his loyalty to Richard and then would be intent upon taking vengeance on Vaisey. For Vaisey, it had been important to get his revenge on Guy for the betrayal of their partnership and for choosing to side with the king. They decided that they would capture Guy on the place of the crime; Kate of Locksley had assisted them by informing them about Guy’s location in the castle.

Prince John, Isabella, and Vaisey had intended to make Guy a scapegoat and execute him for the alleged crimes and for all other real murderous deeds he had committed at Vaisey’s behest. John and Vaisey had decided that Vaisey would disappear for a while and would come back later. Yet, they hadn’t expected that Vaisey would be injured so badly in his intense fight with Guy: Vaisey had been almost killed by Guy and had struggled for every breath throughout many weeks. Only Prince John and several people, including the Earl of Buckingham, were aware of Vaisey’s survival; Isabella was kept in the dark.

Vaisey placed his hand to the place where he had been stabbed; even now, when he was mostly recovered, there was still a nagging pain in his chest when he inhaled or exhaled sharply. He had been lucky that the blade had missed his lungs, for otherwise he would have died from the internal bleeding or would have been unable to recover completely, like the Baron of Rotherham. For an instant, Vaisey looked chagrined at the thought that, in spite of Guy’s old fealty to him, Guy, _his almost son,_ had still betrayed him; but it was quickly replaced by a fiendish grin.

“Gisborne betrayed us, and he would pay for that with his life,” Vaisey avouched.

“For God’s sake, Lord Vaisey, don’t think only about Gisborne now! I know that you hate this traitor, but his death is not the first thing that you must be worried about.”

“I want to thank you for sending your doctor to me, sire.”

“Yes, you should be endlessly grateful to me. You will never repay me for everything I gave you – power and wealth.” The prince’s voice sounded indignant. “And what have you achieved? Only failures!”

Vaisey was nervously chewing his lower lip. “It is not my fault that Hood survived.”

“But it is your fault that Hood was stabbed!” John screamed, his anger erupting like the blazing sun bursting forth in the east. He turned to the window, his eyes taking in the sky that had a dull-reddish shade and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens.

A tense silence stretched between them. John turned his head suddenly, looking at the window and observing the sunrise. Vaisey was silent, thinking about the perilous predicament Robin had put him in.

 “What should I do with you now?” Prince John asked in a low, hissing tone as he resumed pacing the room, his eyes frantically wandering around, not fixing at any point. “You are dead, and yet you are alive.” He remained quiet for a while, until he stopped near the window and turned to the older man. “What should I do with you after the Earl of Huntingdon thwarted all of our plans?”

The prince’s companion laughed aloud so hard that John grimaced in displeasure.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah! Hood’s return from the dead was a grand and dramatic performance,” the man said in singsong tones, laughing. “Hood has many problems, but I cannot say that I have never enjoyed his passion for theatrics and our little mocking skirmishes.”

“You told me that you had finished off Robin Hood.”

Vaisey shrugged. “His wound was fatal. I have no idea how he could survive.”

“It is a miracle that Hood is alive.”

“What are you planning, my liege?”

John narrowed his eyes to slits. “You dare ask me what I will do?” he shouted, gesticulating aggressively. “You failed to kill Richard, but you accidentally wounded Huntingdon. I didn’t need Hood dead after he had wedded Melisende!” He pointed an angry finger at Vaisey. “Do you know what the consequences of Hood’s death are for me? Do you know how many nobles from Aquitaine and Normandy labeled me his murderer?”

Vaisey looked perturbed for a moment before his face regained neutrality. “I have heard that many Black Knights from Aquitaine and Normandy switched sides and are again loyal to King Richard.”

“Exactly! I lost the support of almost all Poitevin nobles!” the prince screamed wrathfully. “We spent so much time cultivating our relationships with Poitevin and Norman nobles, and all for nothing.”

“My king, you had wished fervently to see Robin Hood dead before you dispatched us to Acre. I did nothing you didn’t want me to do,” Vaisey parried in a calm, confident tone, grinning at the prince. “And I didn’t kill Hood on purpose. He jumped between your brother and my blade to save his beloved Richard.”

“You dare defend yourself, Lord Vaisey!” John hissed. “You met Guy de Lusignan on Cyprus, and he told you that Hood had wedded my cousin!” He crossed the room and stopped near the other man. “De Lusignan must have noted that Hood’s death was not in my interests from that time onwards!”

Vaisey rose to his feet, bowing to the prince. He hated that he had to go through so many troubles and that he had to behave submissively before the prince now. He had to act this way because now he needed John’s favor more than ever before.

“Sire, I have never meant to cause you and your reputation any harm,” Vaisey responded humbly, his head still bowed. “I have done everything to get rid of King Richard and seize the throne that you deserve much more than anyone else and that is rightfully yours. I have always been loyal to your esteemed father, King Henry, and to you. I have never considered your brother a man who should be our king. Your father wanted you to be king after his death, and I wanted the same.”

Vaisey’s words pacified John’s anger a little bit; he was very fond of flattery. “I know, Lord Vaisey, I know. You and Lord Buckingham have always been my most loyal subjects.”

Vaisey smiled. “I love you, my king. I will do anything to prove my love and loyalty.”

John only sighed deeply. “But the circumstances changed, my lord. You surely understand that.”

“Courtesy of Robin Hood,” the former sheriff hissed.

“Exactly, Vaisey. Robin of Locksley returned,” the prince said in a tired voice.

“And he blackened my reputation,” Vaisey mentioned with devilish calmness. “Actually, I am astonished that the idealistic Hood became so politically astute.” He laughed menacingly. “Maybe his stupid dreams faded away when I plunged his own scimitar into his pretty lithe body.”

“At least Hood helped me restore my image.”

Vaisey arched a brow. “My liege, I don’t understand why we are paying so much attention to Hood. We had a deal, and we should proceed with our plans as if nothing had happened.” His lips curved in a smile. “We can also do something… to our little friend Robin who seems to be quite vulnerable now.”

“Don’t pretend that you are a fool, Vaisey! Hood’s recent actions changed everything. You cannot go to Nottingham and take the town back from Isabella after you had been publicly accused of attempted regicide, of arranging Richard’s capture, and of almost killing Hood, one of Richard’s most loyal adherents.”

Vaisey reminded the prince, “My king, you need me now more than ever before.”

“What makes you think so? Maybe I have other plans for you!” John enunciated slowly, in an undertone of ambiguity, smiling slightly. “Hood accused you of the things that make you the most dangerous criminal in England!” He snickered. “Hood and my cousin set an effective trap for me, but they also helped me clear my name in the eyes of my nobles. I cannot say that I am displeased with that!”

“All these nobles understand that Hood was playing a game and that you are the mastermind of the regicide attempts on King Richard’s life. Hood couldn’t have accused you in public as Richard would have been displeased then.” Vaisey knew that the prince was right, and he hated Robin for his political games.

“I know, but I can still use Hood’s tricks for my benefit.”

“My king, your success is temporary.”

Prince John took a step ahead and gripped Vaisey’s collar, looking into the eyes of the older man. “Don’t speak to me so rudely, Lord Vaisey!” He gnashed his teeth, his face contorted in anger. He shook Vaisey violently. “You are nothing without me! I can kill you right now, with my own sword! Or I can order your execution for the crimes Robin of Locksley had accused you of!”

Vaisey managed an impudent smile, although inside he was trembling in fear. He had a trump card up his sleeve that would corner John and make him more agreeable; now he was going to use it. “My king, you have a short memory!” he proclaimed. “I know some of your secrets that may affect your chances for kingship.”

Prince John released Vaisey and took a step back. He stared at the other man, his expression bewildered, for he didn’t catch Vaisey’s train of thought. “You dare threaten me, your king?”

Vaisey felt more confident now; his tactic was working. “My liege, I would never do anything to undermine your position,” he spelled out slowly, as if he were giving the prince enough time to digest information. “And I want us to be in a valuable partnership.”

“What do you want to say?”

Vaisey grinned wickedly. The moment of his triumph over Prince John was close. “I did many important things for you, most of them at your order, sire.” His grin widened. “We failed to find the Queen Mother’s golden boy, but I know about his existence.”

Prince John blanched; his heart was beating at a furious pace and his nerves tight in his stomach. He had just received another profound shock, and he was again cornered, but this time by Vaisey, not by Melisende. Vaisey couldn’t know that Robin was Queen Eleanor’s son, but that didn’t make his life easier. He was intelligent and astute to realize what the revelation of this secret would mean for the Plantagenets. Suddenly, he was seized by bloodlust, and all he could see was red – the color of Vaisey’s blood.

With a feral growl, Prince John almost ran to Vaisey. “You will pay for your disobedience.”

Vaisey didn’t look frightened, enjoying John’s panic. “You cannot harm me, sire.”

John stopped beside Vaisey. Being physically stronger, the prince twisted Vaisey’s hands behind the older man’s back, making him temporarily immobilized. Then John extracted a dagger from the inner pocket of his doublet and pressed the blade to Vaisey’s throat. “I may slash your throat.”

Vaisey’s lips stretched into an evil grin. “Milord, I prepared three pigeons, which in the case of my death will carry three small parchments to King Philippe of France, to Holy Roman Emperor Henry, and to King William of Scotland.” He laughed jubilantly. “Do you know what they will carry? The sensational news about the Queen Mother’s golden boy! Each of these rulers will be happy to learn such a delicious secret!”

“You won’t dare–” John broke off, pressing the dagger to Vaisey’s throat. “You won’t do that to your lord and sovereigns – to me! You will never prove that my mother had a child of out-of-wedlock! Richard and mother had covered all the tracks of her disgrace! You won’t be able–”

Vaisey flashed a perfidious smile. “I don’t need to prove anything,” he interrupted in a cheerful tone, his expression gleeful. “Only rumors about Queen Eleanor’s bastard will be enough to place the line of the Plantagenets into doubt.”

“Shut up, you swine,” the prince thundered with savage vehemence.

Vaisey’s smile turned insolent. “This is so sweet! This is so charming! All kings would learn that King Richard and you, sire, may be only bastards, and they would try to conqueror England and the Angevin Empire! Imagine the situation: many kings and rulers may attack the Angevin Empire from all the borders, and you will probably lose not only the kingdom and your throne, but also your own life!”

Prince John paled more than a dead man. His heart was gripped with a mad fear. He had been scheming incessantly against Richard and Robin, trusting Vaisey too much; he had fallen into one's own trap. He was greatly shocked by the double blackmail of him by Melisende and Vaisey. He knew that he had lost today’s battle with Vaisey, but he vowed that he would make the older man pay. He had been disappointed in Vaisey after the second failure to assassinate Richard; now he was outraged beyond measure.

Vaisey used the blackmail as a last-resort method to get what he wanted from the prince. But John wasn’t entirely trapped: he had a way out if all of his plans failed – he could escape to France, then somehow make peace with Richard and save himself. John was also not in danger from Melisende as long as Robin was alive. Vaisey was in a much worse situation, and the prince was going to use that to his advantage.

Finally vanquishing his emotions with effort, John took away the dagger and released Vaisey; then he stepped aside, his gaze focused on the blackmailer. “It makes a big difference, Lord Vaisey.”

The only way for Vaisey to stay in John’s good graces, willingly or unwillingly, was through blackmail. “I am so glad that we understand each other,” he nearly sang, another vicious plan forming in his head.

John sank into a nearby armchair. “Never threaten me again, Lord Vaisey. Or I swear you will pay for that.” Vaisey would pay in any case, but now he had to say these words to preserve his own dignity.

The former sheriff smiled. “My king, what have I done wrong?” He outstretched his arms. “I will do everything for you, milord! I will try to murder the king again!”

Prince John was shuddering in rage. After a moment’s silence, he said quietly, “Lord Buckingham has the funds we collected during the last several months to pay for the transfer of Richard into my custody. It is very important that you deliver it to King Philippe of France who will help us deliver Richard from Austria to France, where we will make him bleed to death.”

Vaisey smiled. “I will go to Lord Buckingham, and we will get the treasure to the continent.”

“Yes,” John barked. “Be careful with the money. If it is not delivered to King Philippe, the deal is lost.”

“What about Robin Red Breast and his friends, my lord?” Vaisey eased himself into his chair.

The prince’s expression was hateful. The murder was written across his features, and his eyes screamed the rage that was bubbling in his chest. “I want Robin Hood dead, but I cannot kill him recklessly.”

Vaisey was bewildered. “Why should we spare his life if you want him dead so much?” He coveted to kill Robin with his bare hands for defying him again and for winning the battle with death; he had never hated the leader of the merry men more than he had hated him after Robin’s resurrection. “I know about the Poitevin nobles, but I can arrange that Hood’s death will look like an accident.”

“Can you really do that, Lord Vaisey?” a hopeful Prince John inquired.

John was interested in all of the existing options to rid himself of the Queen Mother’s golden boy. If Robin’s death could be arranged without the direct involvement of the Black Knights and him, if they could circumvent Melisende, John would approve of the plan of the bastard’s assassination.

“My king,” Vaisey began in a servile tone, crossing him and glancing towards the door, “I swear if we do as I suggest, it will be impossible to prove your implication.”

“Share with me your ideas.” John’s mind was trying to invent a plan of murdering Robin and casting the blame on Vaisey, and then executing the blackmailer. It would look realistic that Vaisey could try to murder Robin again. In this case, Melisende would be unable to ascribe Robin’s death to him.

“We will need Lord Sheridan’s assistance to kill two birds – our beloved Robin of Locksley and our dim-witted Guy of Gisborne.” Vaisey’s eyes began to glisten with malice. “I am sure that Hood, Gisborne, and Hood’s friends are currently preparing to free Queen Eleanor from Pontefract Castle.”

The prince was nervously clutching the jeweled collar of his doublet. “I have already sent Lord Sheridan and Sir Jasper with my men from the elite guard to Pontefract. We toughened the security measures there.”

“I know, milord. We cannot work without Sheridan at all,” Vaisey answered. Then he told John the plan his crafty mind had designed to bring down both Robin and Guy.

As Vaisey finished and lapsed into silence, Prince John gave him a long, impenetrable look. There was something so terrible and so truculent in the prince’s expression and in his cold, ingenious smile that even the former sheriff was unable to speak and move, as if he were under some spell.

For a moment, there was a perfect silence in the library. Prince John smiled grimly at Vaisey, and then he glanced away. Then a burst of laughter boomed in the stillness.

“It might work, Vaisey. Ask Sheridan to help you if he thinks he has a chance to do that at Pontefract.”

“I will do as you command, my king.”

“I suppose Gisborne will be together with Hood; you can kill them both.”

Vaisey nodded, smirking darkly as visions of the dying Robin and Guy flickered in his mind. “Gisborne and Hood will be dead soon. This trap will work for certain, and their deaths will seem accidental.”

The prince narrowed his eyes at her and warned, “Don’t fail me, Vaisey.”

“What about Nottingham?” Vaisey continued. “I want my town and my position of sheriff back.”

“Ha!” John thundered. “I cannot make you Sheriff of Nottingham now, but I will allow you to recruit an army to take over the city later, after we complete our new plan.”

“Very well, sire,” Vaisey said, not satisfied.

“The audience is over, Lord Vaisey.”

Vaisey nodded wordlessly. He wanted to leave as he was tired after riding to London from Oxford for several days without intermissions. He needed to get some sleep before traveling to Buckingham’s estate and then departing to Dover in order to cross the English Channel; he planned to leave Buckingham in Calais and then to travel to Pontefract to set a trap for Robin and Guy.

Vaisey climbed to his feet. “With your permission, my lord, I will see myself out.”

“Oh, yes, I am bored.” John waved a hand of dismissal. “Get out of my sight!”

Vaisey bowed, put on his hood, and headed to the exit. The Earl of Durham was waiting for Vaisey in the corridor to accompany him out of the White Tower through one of the many secret passages.

After Vaisey’s departure, Prince John sat quietly for a long time, exceedingly pale and solemn. Then he laughed. “Let’s hope that this time, you won’t fail me, Vaisey,” he muttered to himself. “But you are anyway a dead man walking. I never forgive humiliation and disrespect of a servant to me.

§§§

Megan walked out of Bolebec Castle owned by Sir Walter Giffard, the Earl of Buckingham, a traitor to King Richard and Prince John’s beloved favorite. She had never been in the village of Whitchurch in Buckinghamshire before, and she didn’t like the place at all: it was easy to imagine that the village had been prosperous before King Richard’s departure to the Crusade, but now it was dreary and impoverished.

There were many cottages around the castle, which were shabby, with patched roofs and shutters hanging askew. Every house and cottage had traces of abject poverty that struck nobles and peasants hard due to the extreme taxes which Prince John had imposed on everyone in England to finance the final stage of the Shah-Mat operation. Yet, inside Bolebec Castle, everything was different as Buckingham was very rich and wasn’t overburdened with taxes, unlike many other nobles.

Megan kept walking along the road in the magnificent garden that surrounded the castle. A large smile blossomed on her face as she heard nightingales – her favorite birds – sing and more birds twitter. As she looked around, her heart began to pound harder in delight at the sight of numerous flowerbeds where huge pink peonies, white lilies, and red roses grew. She lifted her eyes and gazed at the sky: the sunset colors were just beginning to fade, and a soft gray veil was slowly drawing over them.

Megan was full of energy, enthusiasm, and excitement, and for a short time, she was able to push away her anxiety and alarm, enjoying the splendor of the gardens. The breeze blew in her face, soft and cool, and she enjoyed the freshness of its touch upon her skin.

She shook her head as if to remind herself that she was on the important mission. She stopped near a small fountain, looking around and thinking that the garden was the only place in the castle where she felt free and where she could breathe with full lungs, not suffocating in the darkness of the treacherous forces. She loathed the Earl of Buckingham, but she couldn’t deny that the man used the wealth inherited from his father in the most extravagant and fashionable way; he had exquisite taste.

In the last few days, Megan worked in the disguise of a servant girl in Buckingham’s estate. Guy, Archer, and Allan were staying at the local inn. Every morning, at dawn, Megan took horse from the stables and rode to a nearby village, where she met with Guy and reported to him about the recent happenings at the castle. So far, Megan was unable to figure out where Buckingham had hidden the treasure – the chest of gold that Prince John had ordered the earl to deliver to King Philippe of France.

Megan was heading to the distant part of the garden. The place was so remote that only gardeners visited it, but she felt that there was still more life and gaiety in this part of the garden than in any other place within the estate; maybe it was so because Buckingham rarely went there.

As Megan seated herself on a stone bench near the river, she felt relief wash over her – she was alone and didn’t have to serving dinner in the castle. She hated that she had to work in disguise, but it was the only way to sneak into the castle. Amicia de Beaumont had told Robin and the others that Buckingham planned to depart to the continent very soon, and they had to stop him. Megan was the only woman whom they could send on that mission: Buckingham would have recognized Marian at first glance, while Djaq was a Saracen and it was suspicious to send her to the Black Knight, and they didn’t trust Kate.

Suddenly, Megan heard the sound of approaching footsteps, as well as two quiet male voices, one of them a low and firm voice and the other rancorous and singsong; someone’s distant laughter was heard too.

Megan resolved to learn who the mysterious people were. Her gaze wandered around as she was trying to discover the source of the voices. She was not far from the speakers and could hear them talking about the upcoming departure to France. A nervous tremor passed through her; she picked up her pace and her strides became longer. She swiftly reached the top of a small hill and stopped there, hiding behind the trunk of a willow, her eyes searching for the Black Knights.

"I am so glad you have come here, my lord," the Earl of Buckingham in a voice laced with incredulously.

Vaisey grinned widely. “Oh, blah-di-blah-di-blah! Of course, I am here, Lord Buckingham!”

“How are you feeling now, Lord Vaisey? I feared that I would never see you again.”

The older man patted Buckingham’s shoulder fondly. “I am feeling much better than a few months ago.” He clenched his fists as anger built up in his chest. “My mood will improve when Gisborne draws his last breath. This worm will most definitely suffer and beg me for forgiveness before I send him to the devil.”

Buckingham smiled. “I am relieved that Gisborne failed to kill you, milord.”

Vaisey sneered. “Gisborne is the most incompetent henchman in England!”

“He is the worst assassin too,” Buckingham added contemptuously. “All of his attempts to dispose of Robin Hood proved abortive. He failed to finish off the king. He failed to murder you, which is good.”

A dark shadow crossed Vaisey’s face. “Gisborne not only betrayed me in the Holy Land but also tried to murder me with his own hand. He signed his own death warrant that day.”

"Lord Vaisey, you are a man who always gets what he wants," the earl stated admiringly.

Vaisey nodded. “Nobody will stop me: I will kill Gisborne and Hood."

Megan’s mouth twisted in disgust at the sight of Vaisey’s sneering face. She loathed the evil man wholeheartedly; she hated Vaisey fiercely for what he had done to Guy. What she had overheard heard made her blood boil in rage that was as burning as it was unbounded by anything.

“When are we leaving for Dover and then for France?” Buckingham inquired.

“The day after tomorrow, at dawn,” Vaisey answered. “We have no time to wait.”

“Yes. We must deliver our little bribe to King Philippe as soon as possible.”

“When is King Philippe planning to pay the ransom to the Holy Roman Emperor? Or is he scheming something else against Richard?” Vaisey asked Buckingham about that because the earl was the one who had developed and cultivated international relationships with the king’s foreign enemies.

"King Philippe is a sly man, and we shouldn’t trust him completely," Buckingham replied, staring in the direction of the river for a brief moment and then turning his gaze to the other man. “Once Philippe was Richard’s dear friend, but he betrayed him and attacked Normandy during the king’s absence. He also allied himself with Prince John, seeking to destabilize England. Philippe is a turncoat: he can betray or abandon his allies anytime – he can renew his friendship with Richard again.”

Vaisey laughed spitefully. “Yeah, Richard and Philippe are lovers according to some rumors!”

 Buckingham laughed nastily. “Richard must be very displeased with certain abominable rumors about him. It was Prince John’s idea to make his elder brother look like a sodomite; you and I executed John’s plan.”

Vaisey scoffed. “Well, we have been working to undermine Richard's power for a long time.” He sniggered. “You and I wanted to make John happy, and so they spread the gossip about Richard’s delicate preference for… fine-featured boys and young handsome men… in bed. It worked so well!”

The two old friends burst out laughing. After the two of them had spread a nasty rumor about Richard, John had begun to favor and trust them. In the same way, Vaisey had spread false rumors about Ghislane of Gisborne’s infidelity to King Henry, which had predestined the tragedies in the lives of Guy and Robin. Buckingham and Vaisey had worked for King Henry and then had pledged allegiances to Prince John.

“And now we must make Prince John happy and kill the king,” Buckingham finished.

“We will do our best, my boy,” Vaisey assured his companion.

The receding footsteps alerted Megan to their departure. She peeped from behind the willow and saw the two of them stalk towards a gate, from where Vaisey could leave the estate undetected. Her mind churning with negative thoughts, she hastened to leave the remote part of the garden.

On the way to the castle, Megan’s eyes took in the gorgeous landscape around her, and she thought that the beauty of the garden was the only thing that distracted her from an ever-increasing anxiety and alarm. She had often spied for Queen Eleanor at court in Poitiers, but she had never been on a mission of such a vital importance to England and the king, with such significant risks for her own life.

In the evening, Megan was serving a dinner for the Earl of Buckingham who was entertaining himself with a young kitchen maid. Megan struggled to ward off the urge to vomit as she watched the earl take that girl on his lap and kiss her on the mouth. She placed a tray full of food at the table near the fireplace. As she was about to leave, Buckingham’s shrilling voice made her pause.

“Stay with me here, you wench! I want to bed two girls tonight!” the Earl of Buckingham shouted as he drew back slightly from his lover and directed his gaze at Megan. “You are very beautiful.”

Megan didn’t understand why Buckingham found her lovely when she was dressed in such a plain, well-worn dress.  “I am sorry, milord, but I have a lot of work to do in the kitchen.”

"My dear girl, I want you to warm my bed tonight,” Buckingham proclaimed, pushing his lover away. “For more than two weeks, I have been growing sick of boredom in this cursed village.”

Megan smiled ironically: Buckingham was inebriated, and that goaded him into being more forthright in his communication. “My lord, I am sure that Prince John will soon send you his summons back to court.”

The earl looked insulted. “Wench, you know nothing! I am doing extremely important things for my liege!” He hiccuped. “But I want to go to court so much. There are many beautiful women there, but there are so few pretty lasses in this damned place!” His eyes scanned Megan’s slender figure. “I need you here.”

The kitchen girl laughed at the complaints of her drunk lord, shooting Megan a grin.

A sickening feeling crept over Megan, leaving her body cold and clammy. She saw many men in her life, ranging from pious lords with eyes aglow with mirth to womanizers and court debauches. She had grown up at stellar royal court in Poitiers, and she had never been treated so rudely before, except for the Baron of Rotherham’s rough handling of her. She was tolerating the humiliation only for the sake of the mission.

Megan made a helpless gesture. “My lord, I would have gone to your arms if I could, but I have to clean the kitchen now. I also have to do a lot of sewing for your lordship.”

Buckingham giggled. “Get out of here! Be ready to come to me at my first request tomorrow!”

Megan stormed out of the dining room as fast as her legs carried her. She had deceived Buckingham, but it didn’t matter because he was so inebriated that he wouldn’t remember her words tomorrow. She was awash in relief when the steward permitted her to retire to her room after her complaint about her headache; servants at the castle were kind in spite of working for such a wanton and undignified lord.

The next morning, Megan woke up at the first light; she was an early-riser, maybe due to her upbringing at court in Aquitaine. She had a meeting with Guy, as it happened every morning. She dressed in a gray gown made out of coarse cotton, with a high neckline and long, tight sleeves; her undergarments were peasant as well. She arranged her hair in a simple up-do on the nape of her head.

She made her way from the servants’ quarters to the stables without being seen. She took one of the horses and mounted, her heart hammering harder in anticipation of meeting Guy again. Their meetings warmed her heart and soul. Despite Guy being viewed as a cold-blooded murderer by many people, Megan never felt being in danger from him, and a thought that someone could be afraid of Guy made her laugh.

Lost deep in thoughts, Megan didn’t notice that she already was in the woodland. There was stillness in the forest, and a marvelous freshness of the air nearly made her head spin. She glanced heavenward, smiling at the sky where the sun was rising; the day promised to be glorious, and that cheered her. There was a whispering in the greenwood that stretched around Megan, as if the forest were waking up.

Megan spotted Guy on the clearing near a small lake, where they had met in the past days. There was no breeze, and the lake was perfectly still, its glassy surface reflecting the rose-tinted sky. Her heart thundered as her gaze fell on Guy’s handsome face that lit up with a smile as their eyes met. Guy was dressed in brown flat trousers and a black muslin tunic, and she wondered whether she would ever see him again clad in black leather. She liked him in black so much because the color fitted him; but whatever he wore, he always looked stunning. _Guy became her favorite repentant sinner with a mysterious past._

Guy eyed Megan, letting eyes dwell on her slender form, smiling at the thought that even in her peasant clothes she looked enticing and charming.  “Good morning, a beauty of Aquitaine!” he teased her.

Megan looked down at him from her horse. “Flattery doesn’t always help you make friends, Guy.”

“I am not kidding, Meg.”   

“Maybe.” She smiled facetiously, pleased that she had been complimented when she didn’t wear rich gowns and jewels. She tightened the reins and hopped down from her saddle, finding herself in Guy’s arms. “It is such a nice day today. It is not raining,” she purred.

“The weather is good, but I bet you don’t like English weather,” he hazarded a guess. His heart hammered harder at the sensation of his hand touching her waist; then he took his hands away.

She nodded. “I hate rains and cold. I like the climate of Aquitaine.”

“Of course, you do. I guess that you feel more at home in Poitiers than in England.”

“Yes, Guy.”

He pointed at the basket that stood on a blanket strewn on the grass near the lake, and her gaze followed his. “I have something for us. We will have a short picnic.” He wanted to provide them with some distraction at least for a while, and the warm, sunny spring day was ideal for a picnic.

She smiled brightly, her gaze lingering on his full mouth for a moment; then she looked into his eyes. “Bravo, Sir Guy! It is an excellent idea to allow a poor kitchen maid to have some decent meal!”

“As always sarcastic,” he noted as he took the basket and retrieved the blanket from there.

“Always, Guy,” she echoed with a smile.

They seated themselves on the blanket. He unpacked a loaf of French bread, some butter, sweet tarts, and a large bowl overflowing with fruits; there were many oranges, apples, mulberries, and raspberries.

Megan was wonder-stricken. “Where did you take these delicacies?”

He chuckled. “Yesterday, Archer and I went to the central market and bought many delicious things there.” His face darkened. “There is a tavern near the market. Its owner frequently ships food to Bolebec Castle for Lord Buckingham, who seems to be an expert in French cuisine and wines, unlike Prince John.”

“Well, this man has great taste in many things in spite of being a vile traitor.”

“I agree.”

Guy put lobsters and oysters on Megan’s platter, and she gasped in amazement. Queen Eleanor liked them a lot, and they were often served at court in Poitiers.

“Guy, there did you get them?” she asked in a surprised voice. “I love lobsters and oysters!”

“We bought them in the same tavern, and Archer cooked them.” His face was illuminated with a radiant gladness: he was elated that he had pleased her. "I knew that you would love to have them for breakfast.”

He handed her a platter, and she took it, flashing him a smile of gratitude. “Thank you so much, Guy.” She started eating a large lobster that was so delicious that her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled. “Did you buy these delicacies especially for me?”

“Yes, I did, Meg.”

She arched a brow. “Oh, it is very generous of you. I didn’t expect that you would do that for me.”

“As you know, my mother spent her early youth at Queen Eleanor’s court, and she liked French cuisine a lot.” He smiled languidly as his mind replayed the image of Ghislane’s beautiful face. “Mother cooked lobsters and oysters in special sauces for Isabella and me. After her death, I remembered those quiet family dinners with… my family.”

Megan clearly saw the changes in Guy. “You have good memories of childhood.”

“Yes,” he said with a smile.

Megan laughed, and Guy laughed back. They sat eating and chatting, luxuriating in a short moment of peace and calm. The world with its troubles, grieves, sorrows, and calamities ceased to exist, and a veil of translucent lightness enveloped them. They felt very comfortable together, as if they were old friends. They could ask each other anything and could easily deal with unpleasant arguments and conundrums. There was always that lightness between them. At times, Megan, as disagreeable as a stormy wind, criticized Guy in some way, and he listened to her eagerly, thinking again that she was very shrewd and wise.

Guy had never had that peace and calm in his relationship with Marian: there were always fierce fights, serious confrontations, hot arguments, a cobweb of noble lies, and ever-present danger in their touches and interactions. Once he had looked at Marian as if she were the only woman and the greatest beauty in the world. But Megan was also very beautiful, and there was more graciousness in her than in his former wife, perhaps because she possessed manners of a courtier – they were impeccable.

Megan smiled joyfully. "I am so glad that we have this moment of quietude today. Let's try to make this a really golden hour before I have to go back to the castle.”

Guy smiled agreeably. “This moment is precious to me. It is a pity that we have only one hour.”

“First things first!” Megan put a sweet tart into her mouth.

He couldn't suppress an exasperated sigh, for her words reminded him of Marian. For a moment, he was irritated that everyone was so focused on the king’s salvation. “You are correct,” he said as he nibbled a small piece of green apple. “But I prefer to enjoy the beauty and tranquility of the woods while we are here.”

Megan gave him a dazzling smile; then she put a large raspberry into her mouth. “Well, I want to play a game, Guy.” She chewed slowly, savoring the taste; then she resumed speaking. “If we want to have a good time, then you should think of something that makes you happy. And if this conversation doesn’t give you positive emotions, you don’t need to feel honor bound to talk to me.”

Smiling tentatively, Guy took one raspberry and began to eat it.  “I admit that I considered you talkative when we were imprisoned, but I quickly realized how intelligent you are; I became addicted to our chats.”

“Yes, I like talking and meeting new people,” Megan retorted, taking another raspberry from the basket. “Yet, I have always believed that if you can spend with someone half an hour in silence and be fully comfortable, then you and that person can be friends. But if we always talk, then who are we to each other?”

He smirked. "What you say is always witty but makes sense, right?”

Her eyes glowed. “Of course.”

Megan proceeded to tell Guy about the conversation between Buckingham and Vaisey which she had overheard. Guy listened to her very attentively, his eyes clear and focused, his fists clenched.

The news awakened an old red-hot anger in Guy – anger at Vaisey and at himself that he had wasted so many years serving such an evil man. “So Vaisey is alive. Robin was right,” he hissed.

She gave a stiff nod. “Yes, the monster is alive. It seems that you wounded him severely.”

Guy mused aloud, "I wonder where Vaisey is now.”

“Maybe he is hiding, like you and our friends,” she assumed.

Guy lowered his eyes, looking at the ground. “Meg, you must be very careful in the castle.”

“Guy, you should calm down because I am not in immediate danger. Lord Buckingham thinks that I am a kitchen maid. Vaisey is not staying anywhere in Buckingham’s estate, and even if I meet him by chance, he won’t recognize me as he hasn’t been at court in Aquitaine for years.”

Guy smiled at her patronizingly. "Meg, I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself, but even an incredibly talented, strong, and brave woman can be… reckless and can underestimate the danger.”

Megan scoffed. “Ah, Guy! Do you want me to be a damsel in distress whom you will save?” she mocked, her eyes gleaming with merriment. “My father was Prince Richard’s loyal knight and was honored by our king on a battlefield many times. He didn’t raise me as a helpless little girl!” She smiled soothingly and attempted to assuage his concerns. “Don’t worry about me, Guy. You won’t have to pray near my grave for my restless soul on a cold morning or a damp evening.”

He took her hands in his and kissed each of them in turn, fondly and reverently. Gazing into her eyes, he told her sincerely, “This is such an awful joke, Meg! I cannot bear the thought of your death!”

Her heart was beating fast at the concern she could see on his face and hear in his words. “Ahem, I am sorry! I never meant anything bad or apprehensive.”

Guy sighed with resignation. "I hope that you know what you are doing and will be alright.” He knew that he would be unable to control her rebellious spirit, even though he was very worried about her.

Soon the picnic was over, and it was high time for Megan to return to the castle before servants began to look for her. She jumped into the saddle and glanced down at Guy, giving him a smile of unparalleled brilliance. Then she spurned on her horse and set it into a full gallop. Looking at her silhouette flickering between the trees, Guy prayed that Megan would not encounter any danger in the castle; he could say that there was some tantalizing lure of a mystery in their friendship, and he treasured it a great deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> It was another transitional chapter that is necessary to build the setup for the resolution of all the love triangles and for the next action chapters, each of them dynamic and dramatic.
> 
> I wanted to show how Robin, Guy, and the others are interacting after their arrival from London in Nottingham. Now they are all in Sherwood, and the tension between the certain characters is great.
> 
> Robin faces a split of loyalties among his men, reflected in Little John’s relevant unwillingness to save the king. I warned you several times that Robin Hood had become a different man – death changed him. That is fully reflected in Robin’s tolerance to John’s disrespectful but truthful speeches about King Richard. As you can see, Robin has already realized many truths about the king and the world, but his conflict of loyalties cannot be resolved because he is Queen Eleanor’s son and Richard’s brother.
> 
> Guy is adjusting to his new life; it is not easy for him to be in the company of Robin's friends. Marian and Guy have a heart-to-heart conversation: she tells him some interesting things about life. Guy is comparing Megan and Marian, he is most certainly confused with his own feelings. My Megan is not canonical as I deliberately made her not compliant with canon; I think she is more mature than my Marian. I hope you like the Guy/Meg scenes because I have a lot of fun writing them.
> 
> Marian and Robin are in a hopeless situation. She is brokenhearted because now she knows that Robin could have his marriage to Melisende annulled, but he didn’t. Robin chose his wife and his son. The scene in the woods is heartbreaking, and I hope you enjoyed a small dose of angst in this chapter.
> 
> I was planning to ship Allan and Kate from the very beginning. I’ve always liked Kate more with Allan than with Robin in the show. And Allan needed someone for happiness!
> 
> I am aware that some Guy/Marian fans are disappointed on a personal level because you anticipated Marian’s happy reunion with Guy. I do apologize for causing you some unpleasant feelings, but I want you to understand me – no writer can write things they don’t believe in, and I don’t deny that my view on Guy and Marian’s compatibility was changing. In all of the three author’s notes (in the prologues to all three parts of the epic) I mentioned on purpose that I cannot guarantee there will be no changes in pairings – by saying this, I provided myself with the liberty to make changes in the final shipments. But, as I once said, Marian and Guy can still end up together under unusual circumstances.
> 
> I hope that Guy/Marian shippers won’t abandon this story just because the Guy/Marian current situation is not exactly such as the one you want to see; if that happens, I will be saddened by that, but I understand that it is possible and you should do what is best for you. I know for certain that many Robin fans might be displeased with the outcome of the story as well; at least until the epilogue. But there is a reason for every storyline! I reiterate that both Robin and Guy survive the siege and find happiness and peace in the very end. I assure you that there are many interesting events and adventures ahead. 
> 
> Vaisey is alive, and he is back! The chapter is called “The Rebirth of Evil” because Vaisey returns alive. Vaisey already has a crafty plan to kill both Robin and Guy! Prince John fell into his own trap and was cornered by both Vaisey and Melisende. In the next chapter, Guy, Archer, Megan, and Allan will complete their missions, but not everything will go smoothly. 
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated, including well-grounded criticism.
> 
> If you find any typos and/or mistakes here, please let me know about them in a private message.
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter. Have a lovely weekend.


	10. Prince John's Treasure

**Chapter 10**

**Prince John’s Treasure**

The next evening, Guy, Archer, and Allan gathered near the outer walls of Bolebec Castle. The mission was extremely important for King Richard and England, so each of them felt incredibly responsible for their task.

Guy swept his eyes over the plain, gently rolling landscape of the valley that surrounded the castle. Although Guy, Archer, and Allan were hiding among the trees, they could see the valley to the right from them while being surrounded by the thick forest from the left. In the west, tempestuous clouds were massed upon one another, and the setting sun shone blood-red above them.

Guy was growing nervous. All his thoughts were about Megan and her safety. “Where is Meg?” he grumbled. “It is getting dark, but we still haven’t received any signal from her.”

“She will give us a signal when everyone falls asleep after drinking our magical water,” Allan said, smiling. “It is gonna be funny when they suddenly all fall asleep.”

“Will Djaq’s concoction work?” Guy needed reassurance.

“It will certainly work,” Archer confirmed. “In the East, many people use these herbs as sleeping draught.” He chuckled. “The servants will have a good sleep today.”

“I hope Buckingham will drink it, too.” Guy sighed deeply, peering out into the twilight. “This man is very dangerous. I know what he did to Marian in the Tower, and I fear he can also try to beat or rape Meg.”

Archer put a calming hand on Guy’s shoulder. “Guy, Meg is not in captivity, and she is Queen Eleanor‘s spy. This girl knows court games and is a seasoned courtier.” He smiled. “And Meg is less impulsive and less reckless than Marian.”

Guy lifted his eyes to the sky; he remarked that the sun had almost set, and it unnerved him even more. “You would do me a great honor if you stop comparing Marian and Meg.”

Allan sniggered. “Mate, don’t be angry with me. I only tried to appease you.”

"Of course, Guy,” Archer answered, making a low mocking bow. “We will do what you wish.”

“Good.” Guy strained his ears, hoping to hear the signal.

Archer grinned sheepishly. “Brother, you are worried about the girl, aren’t you?”

“Meg is a woman of indomitable spirit,” Allan lauded her. “She can take care of herself.”

Guy was too overwrought to listen to reason. “Yet, I am anxious,” he said with most engaging sincerity. “Meg can be very desperate and foolhardy if she wants to do something for King Richard and the Queen Mother. That’s why she spied on Isabella in Nottingham when Rotherham found and detained her.”

“Well, I met Meg only a few weeks ago, when we saved you in Nottingham,” Archer said, his hand playing with the string of his Saracen bow, “but I am impressed.”

Allan dipped an affirmative nod. “Yeah, Meg is amazing.”

Guy smiled heartily, his eyes focused on the castle’s wall. “Yes, she is.”

Allan and Archer smiled. They both remarked that Guy was deeply concerned about the lady.

“Umm… you like Meg more than a friend?” Allan dared ask Guy.

“Oh yes, he does,” Archer nearly sang.

“Not at all,” Guy objected. “We are only friends. I only promised her dying father to take care of her.”

Allan and Archer shrugged; they agreed to disagree.

They sat waiting for Megan’s signal until darkness flowed over and around everything. It brought the thick, bluish fog that lay heavily upon the land, near the castle walls, and in the peripheral distances.

“Where is Meg?” Guy twisted his fingers; a frown creased his forehead.

“It is quite real that the servants have just begun to fall asleep,” Allan assumed.

Guy scoffed. “It sounds somewhat cheerful, but not quite enough.”

“Shhh,” Archer whispered. “Listen.”

All at once, an eerie whistle echoed through the twilight. Guy felt his heart leap in his chest as he listened to the sound and visualized Megan hurrying to the castle walls. He was awash with relief that Megan had finally appeared, although he was annoyed as well as it had taken her so much time to give a signal.

Archer held his breath and, taking a careful aim somewhere above the stone wall, he let an arrow with the attached rope fly with all his skill and grace. Archer shouldered his bow and began to climb; when he was on the top of the wall, he checked the rope and nodded at Guy and Allan, signaling that it was safe to use it for climbing. Soon they were all climbing down the wall and landed easily in the garden.

 “We must find Meg,” Guy enunciated.

Archer prepared arrows and readied armor to defend them from Buckingham’s guards in case the necessity arose. With a smirk, he told his elder brother, “Turn around, Guy. She is already here.”

Megan stood leaning against the wall lazily. “All of you are most definitely at the peak of your physical form: strong, tall, and muscular,” she said with an ironic smile as she surveyed the group of the three men.

Guy smiled slightly. “You are fine, Meg.”

She nodded, as confident in herself as ever. “Of course, I am, Guy.”

“Nice to see you again, Meg,” Allan spoke cheerfully.

Archer bowed to her. “My lady, you look stunning even in rags.”

She scoffed. “What an annoying repetition! Guy gave me the same compliment many times over.”

Allan chaffed. “It is impossible to be bored with her! She is a bundle of good, fun energy!”

“Absolutely,” Archer assented admiringly.

Megan smirked at Guy. “Poor Guy! It should be so difficult for you to climb walls and trees! Your height doesn’t make it easy for you!” She made a face. “But then why should you climb walls? You are so tall that you can only raise a hand and touch the sky!”

Archer and Allan threw their heads back and burst out laughing.

“Good heavens, Meg!” Guy clamored. “Do you know where we are now? We cannot lose time!”

“I know that better than anyone else,” Megan snapped angrily.

Guy took a step towards her. “Are the servants sleeping?”

An impish gleam lit up Megan’s face. “Guy, you know that curiosity is one of the permanent and most important characteristics of a keen intellect. Therefore, your mind is a huge palace even though your heart is as thick as virgin Sherwood Forest. But it takes something more than intelligence to act intelligently.”

Megan then lapsed into silence as embarrassment filled her and the blood drained from her face. Her heart was tinged with furious jealousy for so long as she watched Guy teetering between his love for Marian and his doubts that his former wife could make him happy. Megan hadn’t been thinking straight when she had compared Guy’s confusion in with the thickness of Sherwood. She shouldn’t have done that.

 In silence, Megan stood as if she had been turned to marble. Archer and Allan were looking with interest between Guy and Megan, whereas Guy looked as if he had been beaten by invisible fists.

“That was unexpected,” a nonplussed Guy broke the pause.

Megan jumped to what was on the agenda. “I put a lot of sleeping draught in the water the servants brought to the kitchen from the well. As everyone drinks the same water, it was used for cooking Lord Buckingham’s dinner and for drinking.” She rubbed her cheek. “Now all of the servants are sleeping.”

“I told you that she would cope,” Archer commented gaily.

Megan regarded them with a look of triumph. “Someone doubted it?”

“No,” Guy said sincerely. “What about Buckingham?”

She shrugged eloquently. “I don’t know. I didn’t serve his food today, but I suppose that he drank some water as well.” She smiled. “Many of his guards are sleeping in the corridors of the castle.”

“Well done!” Allan exclaimed. “It reminds me of our adventures with Robin.”

“Now I am in charge instead of Robin,” a slightly offended Archer pointed out.

“Meg, get out of the castle while we will be searching for the treasure,” Guy said in a commanding tone. “Wait for us on the clearing where we met each other in the mornings. And if we don’t return by dawn, go find Robin and ask him for help.”

“No,” she gasped. “I cannot leave you. I can wait for you here, in the garden.”

Archer cleared his throat to attract everyone’s attention to him. “I am sorry, but we have no time for arguments,” he said uncompromisingly. He flicked his gaze to Megan. “Meg, please leave for your own sake and for Guy’s sake as well.”

Guy spoke in a voice that brooked no objection. “Megan, you will leave right now. No protests.”

Megan looked at Guy, her deep blue eyes sparkling. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but she remained silent. She smiled at Guy bleakly, and he smiled back.  “Fine,” she agreed.

“Thank you,” Guy returned.

“Now follow me!” Archer ordered.

Megan watched Guy, Archer, and Allan disappearing in the garden, walking in the direction of the castle. She was not going to leave and wait for them in the forest. Tonight she could not help but feel anxious about the mission and Guy’s safety, knowing that Vaisey wasn’t in the estate but was still somewhere around.

Meanwhile, Guy, Archer, and Allan rapidly made their way to the eastern wing of Bolebec Castle, where Buckingham’s apartments were located. Buckingham had hidden the chest of gold in the study that was usually heavily guarded by at least ten guards. Robin’s plan ensured that the guards were sleeping, which made it possible for them to sneak into the room and just take the chest.

When they freely entered the castle from the backdoor, they saw the steward and two kitchen maids on the floor. Obviously, the servants had fallen on the floor in a heap, unable to stand or control their limbs as the sleeping draught was beginning to work. They swiftly passed through the main corridor, where they could see many sleeping servants and guards. They ascended the spiral staircase that led to the tower room.

As they stopped near the heavy oak doors, they exchanged worried glances.

Archer sighed. “It is very quiet, and I don’t like it.”

“I am gonna say it smells danger,” Allan opined.

“Shall we go?” Guy prompted as he touched the doorknob, trying to ignore the growing apprehension.

Archer nodded as if to say the time had come. “We grab the chest and then leave.”

Casting a brief glance at the dozen of sleeping guards outside the study, Guy opened the door and walked in the small room; Archer and Allan followed. The chamber glowed in the dim yellow candlelight, and they could see several more sleeping guards inside.

They were all suddenly overcome by a thrill of adventure. The effect of being so close to Prince John’s treasure was tremendously appealing to all their senses. Visions of hidden treasures and a lot of gold floated before their eyes, in which they saw themselves installed in the highest offices of the state after King Richard’s return. If they succeeded today, the king would surely reward them! For a moment, they thought of the things unrelated to the mission, even though they seemed to belong to a misty future. 

At first glance, there was no large chest of gold anywhere, and they glanced around, examining the chamber methodically. The interior was luxurious and expensive, like in the whole castle. The study was furnished with all sorts of handsomely carved pieces of wooden furniture, beautiful vases and lanterns, carved and gilded lamps and sconces, several bookshelves full of books, and many other interior design items the Earl of Buckingham usually ordered for all of his estates from Aquitaine.

“I have never known that Buckingham likes books, like Prince John,” Guy whispered.

Allan ran his eyes over the study. “Well, he is the prince’s favorite.”

Guy gazed around. “Where is the chest? Do you see anything?”

Archer raised his eyes up and laughed. “Yes. Look at the ceiling in that corner.”

Their eyes were glued to the large wooden chest that hung from the ceiling in the farthest corner of the room. Buckingham was not only an extravagant man with an exquisite taste – he was also a sly man. Prince John’s treasure was within their grasp, and their excitement mingled with anxiety peaked.

Guy stared at Archer. “It seems there is more work for you, brother.”

Archer nodded. “I can shoot the ropes, but the chest will tumble to the floor with a thump.”

“We have no other option,” Allan deduced.

Archer knelt and took his recurved bow off of his shoulders. Allan handed to him an arrow, and Archer nocked an arrow and drew the bow taut. In the moment, an arrow flew through the air and struck the rope that tied the chest to the ceiling. The chest landed on the floor with the wallop that made the walls tremble.

“Done,” Archer purred with a satisfied smile, his gaze fixed on the chest.

Guy grimaced. “Very noisy, and I hate it.”

“I am going to unlock it,” Allan offered.

Soon Allan managed to unlock the chest his dagger. Archer and Guy stood beside him. As Allan opened the chest, they smiled broadly: it was filled with countless gold coins and bars, and the gold dazzled them.

“There is so much money here!” Allan cried out in disbelief.

“Now we will save the king,” Archer spoke with a delighted smile.

Allan inquired, “How much money is there in the chest?”

Guy assessed shrewdly, “I think it should be enough to pay the king’s ransom.”

For the first time in his life, _Guy was happy that he did something good for the salvation of the king and England_. Before the tragic events in Acre, he had frequently wondered how Robin and the outlaws could receive such self-fulfillment through helping the poor while living in the forest and having no money and any comfort. Guy had scorned Robin for repudiating his noble status. But now he began to understand his former enemy and the outlaws: they fought for England and helped the poor because it was the right thing to do, and presently he was happy that he had stepped on the right path. Guy wasn’t Robin Hood, but he was glad to be on the right side and do something good for his country.

“Yes!” Archer exclaimed. “We will use everything to pay the ransom – every gold coin and bar!”

Guy frowned. “We should take it and leave. But the chest must be very heavy.”

Unfortunately, they didn’t know that the study had once been part of the earl’s master bedchamber, from which it was separated only by a thin partition. As the study was located so close to the bedchamber, Buckingham considered it possible to keep the chest of gold there. Megan couldn’t know about that because she spent only a few weeks in the castle.

Suddenly, the hidden door in a nearby wall – it separated the master bedroom and the study – opened. Vaisey and Buckingham walked in the study and saluted to everyone.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah! Gisborne, I hope you haven’t forgotten me!” Vaisey promulgated, sneering at Guy, his jeweled tooth gleaming between his lips. “I will always find you, my dear boy! You cannot hide from me! Even if you escape to the ends of the earth, I will find you! It is written in the stars that you are mine!”

“Good evening to everyone.” The Earl of Buckingham let out a holier-than-thou chuckle. “I don’t know how you managed to fool us and make my guards asleep, but it looks like someone is still awake.” He laughed again, and so did Vaisey. The earl continued, “Lord Vaisey has his own guards in the castle.” He jerked his head towards Vaisey’s several guards who stood behind them.

“Vaisey,” Guy spat between clenched teeth. He was looking at Peter Vaisey with cold disdain, his eyes flashing with hatred. “I knew that you are alive.”

At the moment, Guy regretted all the years he had served Vaisey more than ever before. His mind drifted back to the past – to the years when he served Vaisey. He had dreamt of becoming content with his life and possibly even happy after his return to Nottingham. Many years ago, Vaisey had promised Guy to give him back the former Gisborne lands, and the old man had kept his word. But even when Guy had obtained his family’s lands back and had received a high status of the sheriff’s right-hand man, he had been miserable. Now Guy was laughing his naivety, and he was still looking for what would give him peace.

“Gisborne, I know what you and Hood said on the feast in the Tower,” Vaisey’s rancorous voice resonated.

“Blimey,” Allan muttered.

A grinning Vaisey turned to Allan. “Yes, my friend. I will never leave you alone!”

“So Robin was right,” Guy hissed, his eyes focused on Vaisey’s face. “You survived.”

Vaisey sneered. “I did survive, my dear friend. You failed to kill me.”

"Nice to meet you, Lord Vaisey,” Archer greeted with an impudent smile. “We are actually enemies now!”

“Guards, surround these men! They belong to us!” Buckingham commanded.

At the earl’s words, five heavily armed men ripped their swords from the scabbards and approached Archer, Guy, and Allan. Three archers stood near Vaisey and Buckingham, aiming at the king’s men. Guards grabbed their arms and restrained them.

Vaisey made a quick perusal of Archer, then glanced at Allan. “Ah, this is so sweet! I like this! I like this so much! All of the traitors have gathered here today! Welcome, my friends, welcome to our bloody party! You will be a little dead soon!” His eyes darkened. “It is a great pity that we don’t have the king of peasants with us today!”

“Don’t you dare speak about Robin,” Guy replied between set teeth, his jaw clenched. “You have no right even to call Robin by his first name after what you did to him in Imuiz!”

Archer and Allan gazed at Guy in startled awe. Robin and Guy were no longer enemies, but it was unexpected for them to hear Guy passionately defending Robin.

Vaisey’s expression was comic before he regained coolness and composure. “Am I dreaming, Gizzy? Or did you become as human as Hood? Or did I misconstrue your words, my boy?”

Guy laughed at Vaisey’s bewilderment. “You understood me correctly. I am not like Robin, but I am trying to be a better man.”

Vaisey grimaced. “So you, Gisborne, betrayed me and aligned yourself with the king and Hood.”

Guy replied sincerely, “I thank Providence that I didn’t raise my sword against King Richard and Robin Hood in Imuiz. Neither of them deserves to die at the hand of a traitor like you or any Black Knight.”

Archer and Allan listened with looks of dim amazement, their respect to Guy growing.

The guards also listened to the exchange between Guy and Vaisey with interest. Some of them knew Guy as Vaisey’s henchman and the Black Knight, wondering why the king had pardoned Guy.

Vaisey was very angry, but his outward reaction was a poisonous smile. “Ah, Richard pardoned you, Gisborne. Tell me how you managed to get pardoned by the lion?”

“Robin helped me,” Guy answered. “Robin is a kind-hearted man, and he pleaded with the king on my behalf. We reconciled when we thought that he would die. I pledged my allegiance to the king.”

The Earl of Buckingham directed a contemptuous glare at Gisborne. “Hood and Gisborne became allies; I saw them standing almost in a friendly embrace on that damned feast in the Tower.” He spewed vulgar curses, and looked at Vaisey. “Lord Vaisey, Gisborne utterly betrayed you and Prince John.”

Vaisey came to Guy and stopped beside his former henchman. He patted Guy’s shoulder in an old manner.  “Gizzy – dizzy – drizzly,” he began in a sing-song voice. “I have to say that today you have managed to amaze me.” He traced the line of Guy’s shoulder with his finger. “So you overlooked your hatred for Hood only because he begged the king to spare your life?”

Guy nodded. “Something along these lines.”

Vaisey smiled maliciously. “Oh, I have forgotten about King Richard’s tastes for men! Gizzy, did Hood bed you, or did you become the king’s lover in Acre? Did they teach you to caress a man instead of a leper?”

The guards who held Guy’s arms knew him giggled scornfully.

Gisborne’s eyes darkened with rage. “You humiliated me throughout so many years, and I was a complete fool that I tolerated that and hadn’t killed you earlier than I tried, for example in the forest of Rouvnay,” he said in a low, throaty voice, staring into the eyes of the man whom he hated most of all in the world.

“I have missed you so much, Gizzy!” Vaisey cried out. “Have you missed me, my boy?”

Guy scowled. “I haven’t. It is a pity that you are not dead.”

“What can you do now, Gisborne?” Vaisey pursed his lips, and his eyes blazed with the flame of demonic fire. “My dear boy, you are surrounded! You and your friends have lost the battle!”

A resigned Guy said calmly, “Even if I lost and you kill me tonight, at least I will die a better man.”

“You are pathetic, Gizzy! Utterly pathetic!” Vaisey gave his verdict.

“Vaisey, better to be pathetic than evil and vile like you,” Guy bit back.

“Maybe we can ask for a better treatment,” Allan attempted to joke.

“Allan-a-dale,” Buckingham said in a drawling manner. “You are Gisborne’s former right-hand man and a traitor to Prince John.” His gaze slid to Archer. “You are Archer, Prince John’s former personal assassin.”

“At your service, milord,” Allan jested.

Archer flashed a charming and conceited smile. “I switched sides in Imuiz and saved the king from you, Lord Vaisey. I made a great mistake when I wanted to kill Robin Hood.”

Vaisey’s eyes coruscated with a dark flame of hatred. “Your interference ruined my plans to kill the king after I had stabbed Hood,” he told Archer. “And you will pay for that.”

“Vaisey, you failed to kill Robin,” Archer reminded him. “Maybe it is not Guy who is pathetic but you!”

Vaisey came to Archer and slapped the young man hard across his face. “Archy, my boy, I won’t spank you like fathers spank their little boys on the bare bottom. I will make you die a slow and painful death!”

“Why are you so unfriendly, Vaisey?” Allan teased.

“Retribution has come!” Vaisey proclaimed as he ran his eyes over Guy, Archer, and Allan. “The three of you will beseech me to kill you when you learn what bloodbath I prepared for you.” There was a predatory smile on his face as his eyes rested on Guy. “Especially you, Gisborne. The wrath of a betrayed master is always deserved — totally just and right! That’s why you will die a special death.”

Archer couldn’t hit Vaisey as he was held by the guards. “It seems Vaisey and Buckingham weren’t taught lessons of proper manners. Isn't it dishonorable to punch a man who cannot defend himself?”

“Shut up, you worm!” Buckingham roared. “Don’t you dare insult Lord Vaisey, you idiot!”

“Oh, oh, oh,” Archer fired back teasingly.

Vaisey perused Archer attentively. On the way to Acre, he had noticed that Archer’s eyes – the pale blue eyes – were so much like Robin’s. “This assassin has something in common with Hood. The color of his eyes, his cheeky smiles, and his poisonous tongue remind me of Hood,” he ruminated.

Buckingham surveyed Archer. “Indeed.”

Vaisey approached Archer. He lifted his hand and turned Archer’s chin to him. He was both impressed and humiliated by the audacity of Archer’s eyes. “Archer,” he spat. “What a funny name! Very funny!” His face turned serious. “Looking into your eyes, I can see that you have a secret.”

“I am Robin’s half-brother,” Archer declared proudly.

“It is not funny,” Allan breathed; he didn’t think that Archer had acted correctly.

“Oh, Archer.” Guy also didn’t approve of Archer’s revelation.

Vaisey’s expression testified to his surprise; then he laughed. “This is great! I will kill Hood’s brother and his ally today!” He swung his gaze to Buckingham. “Buckingham, we have caught a good fish!”

Buckingham laughed. “Indeed, it is great news! Prince John will be pleased.”

Vaisey walked to Guy and stopped, his hands on his hips. “Now you are mine, Gizzy!” He narrowed his eyes. “You betrayed me and didn’t carry out my command when I ordered you to kill the Lionheart.”

Guy broke into a laugh. “Vaisey, I regret that I agreed to serve you most of all in my life. I regret that I killed many people at your order and that I failed to kill you.”

Vaisey’s expression evolved into sheer hatred. “I gave you everything, Gisborne, and you could have been God if you obeyed me. Will I condone your betrayal? A clue: no!”

Guy laughed in Vaisey’s face. “Then kill me, Vaisey.”

“Not now, my boy.” Vaisey responded in a deep voice edged with aversion. “You will have to wait a little longer for your well-deserved punishment, but I swear you will pray for death.”

“Maybe we haven’t lost yet,” Archer said unexpectedly, his eyes twinkling.

Nobody understood the meaning of Archer’s words because they didn’t see Megan who was hiding behind the door, looking at the surrounded Guy, Archer, and Allan. Something else was going to happen.

§§§

Megan had a rescue plan. Focused on the reunion with Vaisey, no one noticed her arrival. After Guy and the others had left her in the garden, she had followed them, wishing to help them if something had gone wrong, and it had. She didn’t have any trouble to get to the study because all the servants were sleeping.

She was haunted by anxiety and a sense of dangerous, impending void since she had discovered Vaisey and Buckingham in the deserted part of the garden a few days ago. Her mind was reeling as she tried to find a logical explanation as to why Vaisey wasn’t staying in the castle. The only answer was that Vaisey had intended to come to Bolebec Castle in the dark of night, and then to leave for Dover, taking Prince John’s treasure with him. As she realized that, a feeling of mortal dread seized her, and she hurried to return to the castle without letting anyone know that she had followed them. And she was right that Vaisey came at night.

As Megan locked her gaze with Archer’s, she winked at him. She smiled at the thought of what she would do with the package of pepper which Archer had given her for her protection a few hours ago; Archer jokingly called it a pepper bomb. She smiled as she remembered one of Allan’s tales about the gang’s adventures, but then she recalled that Djaq had thrown pepper in Guy’s face, her smile vanished.

Megan lifted her skirts, removed the package, and weighed  it in her palm; then she extracted a curved dagger she had kept in her garter. “You haven’t won today,” she declared as she cut the package in two halves and then threw it to the floor; it landed next to Vaisey and Buckingham. “There is always a way out!”

Vaisey and his men didn’t have time to react. A dispersed powder had a strong effect on them: feeling a sharp, burning sensation in their eyes, they dropped their weapons, and their hands flew to their faces as they were screaming in shock and rubbing their eyes, but the burning sensation persisted. Buckingham was luckier: he prudently covered his eyes and his mouth, and, thus, he was alright.

“Meg!” Guy’s desperate voice echoed through the study.

“Yes, Guy!” Megan exclaimed. “I am here.”

Allan proclaimed cheerfully, “It is a rescue!”

Guy and Allan laughed as they remembered one of the gang’s tricks when Djaq had thrown black pepper at Guy. They quickly realized what Megan was doing, for they remembered that Archer had given her the packages of black pepper, which he had taken from Djaq. They freed themselves from the clutches of Vaisey’s men who were coughing and rubbing their eyes filled with tears; some of them fell to the floor.

Vaisey doubled over as he coughed hard; it was difficult for him to breathe, and he felt a nagging pain in his chest from the already-healed wound. Guy, Archer, and Allan were coughing too, but not as hard as the guards, and there were small tears in their eyes. Only Buckingham wasn’t severely affected and was already watching his enemies, a nefarious plan taking shape in his mind.

“I said that we wouldn’t lose today!” Archer cried out as he saluted to Meg.

“I beg your pardon, my lords,” Megan purred with a melodic laugh. Then she took another package of pepper and repeated what she had done a few moments ago. “Today your dinner includes only black pepper. It causes you some inconvenience. I mean irritation, swelling, and burning in your eyes.”

Guy was already near Megan. He was still coughing, but his tears began to dry. “Thank you, Meg,” he choked out in between coughs. “You are really our angel of salvation!”

Megan was also coughing slightly. “I told you that I would stay in the garden, and I did.”

“Let’s get out of here!” Archer shouted. “Grab the chest!”

“Good idea, mate,” Allan agreed, coughing in between words.

“Don’t allow them to get away, you dunderheads! I will kill you all if they get away!” They heard Vaisey’s yelling voice. “Guards, get up and seize them!”

Megan wished to follow Guy who dashed to the door, but someone gripped her arm and then wrapped an arm around her waist. She then felt the edge of the blade digging into the skin of her throat.

“You are not going anywhere,” the Earl of Buckingham hissed into Megan’s ear. “I have known all the time that you are Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough.”

“You are a rat.” Megan lifted her chin with a choked whimper.

“Nobody is leaving,” Buckingham declared in a loud voice. “If you dare move or do something stupid, I will kill your precious spy. Such a beauty will die so young!”

A fog of pepper was slowly dissipating, and they could see Buckingham who stood near the window, his arm wrapped around Megan’s waist, pressing the blade to her throat.

Archer and Allan stopped and placed the heavy chest on the floor. Guy froze near his friends, his expression hateful, his mind reeling as he searched for a solution.

“Release Meg!” Guy screamed.

“One movement, Gisborne, and she will be dead!” Buckingham threatened.

Vaisey laughed malevolently. “What a stunning picture!” He coughed, his gaze wandering around the room and focusing on Guy. “Do you like it, my boy? Does it remind you of something?”

Guy didn’t react to Vaisey’s provocations. He looked at Buckingham with apprehension in his eyes that were darkened with rage. He remembered very well what had followed Vaisey’s wicked trick in Acre – Robin had saved Marian and then had sacrificed himself for the king. He took an oath that today everything would be different: he wasn’t going to let anyone die today.

“Murderer,” Allan hissed in disgust.

Vaisey sniggered. “Isn’t it like in the Holy Land when I almost killed our little missy Marian?”

“It is not your deal, Vaisey,” Guy growled as his hand touched the cold blade of the dagger he carried in his sleeve. He had already made up his mind on a course of action.

“Do you like it, Lady Megan?” a leering Buckingham mocked. He pressed the blade tighter to her throat. He raised his voice and addressed Guy, “Gisborne, I don’t have Lady Marian, whom I want to marry, but I have Lady Megan. I don’t want to marry her, and so I don’t treasure her life.”

“You are the lowest scum on earth, Lord Buckingham,” Megan hurled an insult at her captor. Although she didn’t look frightened, she was inwardly shuddering in dread.

“Lepers, lepers, Gizzy,” Vaisey gloated. “Unlucky, so unlucky! You have forgotten my lessons!”

Guy sought Megan’s gaze, trying to keep calm and smiling at her with a reassuring smile. There was no doubt that Megan looked fearless and cold; he was deeply impressed by her ability to control herself in critical situations. He couldn’t let her die – he would save her. He hoped that she had understood the unspoken message he had given her. He was relieved when Megan gave him a small nod.

Advancing forward, Guy raised his hand, the dagger clasped in his hand. He prayed that he wouldn’t miss his target – the Earl of Buckingham. The world and even the track of time seemed to slow as the dagger flew in the air and struck human flesh. A howl of pain followed, and everything seemed to fade in a burst of white-hot light. And, then, there was only a heavy silence.

Megan vaguely saw the dagger flying in the direction of Buckingham and herself. She drove her elbow into Buckingham’s belly and yanked back on the dagger at her throat; then she slid to the floor. The world went still, and she could see flashes of light before her eyes, all her life flickering in her mind. She felt the soft woolen fabric of the carpet under her hands and dug her nails in the material.

Guy examined the surroundings. The only thing he was worried about was Megan’s fate. As his gaze fell on Megan who lay still on the floor, his heart collapsed in shock; then his gaze shifted to Buckingham‘s prone form; it wasn’t clear who of them was dead.

“Meg!” Guy shouted in a desperate voice as he ran to her as fast as his legs carried him. “Meg!” But she didn’t respond, and his heart was ripped apart in growing apprehension.

Guy stopped near Megan’s petite form, and a giddy feeling of joy overcame him. She wasn’t wounded! Instead, he saw his dagger protruding out of Buckingham’s neck, the earl’s blood pooling on the floor. Guy sighed with relief that the treacherous earl was apparently dead.

Vaisey screeched, “Guards, kill them, you blithering oafs! Kill them! Get them! After them!”

The guards didn’t obey Vaisey’s orders. The men were still coughing, and their eyes were burning painfully. They were unable to fight with the king’s men. Vaisey couldn’t defend himself: his eyes were burning as well, and he also felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Guy dropped to his knees near Megan. “Meg!” he called in a deep voice full of despair, pain, and longing.   “Open your eyes, please. Please talk to me.”

Megan opened her eyes and frowned at him in confusion. “Guy,” she whispered.

“You are alive,” Guy murmured, brushing away the strands of hair from her forehead.

Megan smiled vaguely. “I am not dead.” She was surprised to see a look of ineffable tenderness on his face. Was it a real or ephemeral tenderness, she wondered.

“Buckingham!” Vaisey roared. His eyes widened at the sight of Buckingham’s corpse.

Turning his gaze to Vaisey, Guy announced, “Your friend is dead. I killed him.”

Archer drew his bow and prepared to shoot the fallen guards. “I am not going to risk this time,” he spoke categorically. He released several arrows that struck the thighs and legs of the guards; he didn’t want to kill disarmed men, but he needed to incapacitate them.

Allan unsheathed his sword and advanced towards Vaisey. “Vaisey, your time has come!”

“La di da di da! I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you!” Vaisey shrilled. “You never know what I can do. _I will always be informed as to what you are doing!_ I will always be after you like a shadow!” He glanced around to evaluate the danger. As his eyes rested on Buckingham’s body, he blanched to the whiteness of marble as a wave of shock swept over him. The realization dawned upon him that he was alone against Guy, Archer, Allan, and Megan. Now he had to escape and leave the chest of gold at Bolebec Castle.

Allan lashed out with his sword at Vaisey. “You have lost, Vaisey!”

Ignoring Allan, Vaisey gave Guy a last glance, his expression hateful. “Mark my words that we will meet again, Gisborne! You and Hood will pay to me for everything!”

Allan began to stalk towards Vaisey who hastened to the secret door that separated Buckingham’s master bedchamber and the study. However, Allan couldn’t corner the evil man: Vaisey slammed the door in his face and immediately lock it, leaving Allan and the others in the room.

Megan pulled herself into a sitting position. Acting on impulse, Guy pulled her to him for an instant and she leaned into him, but he quickly drew back, breathing heavily. They both were embarrassed, for this had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly.

“We need to leave,” Archer spoke in an urgent voice as he appeared near Guy and Megan.

Guy nodded. “Yes.” His gaze slid to Megan. “Meg, can you walk?”

Megan dipped her head in confirmation. “Of course, I can.”

Disappointed that he had failed to detain Vaisey, Allan strode across the room and stopped next to his friends. “Vaisey ran away! I am sorry, but I could do nothing to stop him!”

“Don’t blame yourself, Allan,” Archer replied with a sigh. “We must take the chest and get out.”

Guy helped Megan climb to her feet, and as soon as she was on her feet, she brushed his hand off and stepped aside. Guy sighed with regret, and she smiled at him slightly. Allan and Archer grabbed the chest together; as the golden bars and coins really proved to be heavy, Guy helped them carry the chest.

“This way!" Megan cried out as she stormed out of the room. She paused near the door, looking back at the three men who were carrying the chest.

"Quick,” Archer commanded. “It is possible that someone will be after us.”

Guy breathed out a sigh of exasperation. “I doubt that someone will pursue us. All of the servants are sleeping. The injured guards whom we left in the study were Vaisey’s.”

“They cannot fight and are not dangerous,” Allan noticed with pleasure.

Archer smiled smugly. “You have to thank me for the pepper,” he said proudly. “My plan was great.”

Guy rolled his eyes. “Are you bragging like Robin?”

“Well, he is Robin’s brother.” Allan’s fingers turned numb as he held the chest with his two hands.

“Yes. Why not?” Archer nearly stumbled as he stepped on the staircase.

Guy nodded at Archer; then he swung his gaze to Megan. “Meg, how are you?”

Megan measured Guy with a curious look. “I am fine.” Her voice was so quiet, nearly toneless, that Guy cringed, as if she were indifferent to the events that had just happened to them.

They slowly descended the stairs and passed through the great hall, and soon they were out of the castle. Archer and Allan were carrying the chest through the night garden. Guy walked next to Megan, his eyes anxious as he was peering at her in the darkness. Megan was leading them, showing them the shortest way to the wall, where the ropes and all other necessary mechanisms for the transportation of the chest were.

There was absolute stillness in the garden and outside the castle walls. They spent about half an hour near the wall as it took them quite a lot of time to raise the chest to the top of the wall and then to take it down. Only then they could take themselves out of the garden. On the way to the nearby woods, none of them engaged others in more conversation than was necessary.

Walking very slowly as Archer and Allan were carrying the chest, the four of them soon reached the edge of the forest. The full, pale-green moon rose in the night sky, and the woods seemed fabulous in its shimmering resplendence. In the brilliant moonlight, they could see the woodland and each other quite well.

Guy gave Megan his hand, and she clung to it, wondering what he would say to her once they were alone. Guy had saved her life, and she was grateful to him for that. His brave actions meant the world to her, but she said to herself that she should not hope that the despair she had seen in his eyes when he had been fearful of her death meant deeper feelings than a simple concern about her. And yet, there was still some hope in her heart, but Megan reminded herself once again that Guy was a forbidden fruit.

When they were unable to walk anymore, they stopped in a small clearing for a short rest.

Archer released a weary sigh as he looked at the chest that now stood on the ground. “It was not easy,” he said quietly. “Now we have to carry it to the clearing where Meg and Guy usually met.”

Allan was barely able to catch his breath. “I am gonna say that it is awful,” he lamented.

“Please don’t complain, Allan.” Her visage weary, Megan clasped her throat with trembling fingers, as if she needed to re-assure herself that she could feel her pulse and, thus, was alive.

Guy looked at Megan with concern. “Meg, it is over! We have accomplished a lot today!”

 “For King Richard and for England,” Megan said in a voice low and hollow as an echo.

“For King Richard and for England,” Guy repeated. If she could speak about her loyalty to England and the king, then she was going to be alright. Allan and Archer looked between Guy and Megan curiously.

Soon they continued their way to their final destination – one of the clearings where they would meet with Lady Melisende Plantagenet and her men, taking the straightest route there.

When Guy, Megan, Allan, and Archer finally reached the clearing, they were out of breath, but relief was washing through them in tidal waves. For some time, they stood in silence near the stolen chest of gold, looking tired and exhausted, but there were satisfied smiles on their faces.

“We have done it,” Archer stated proudly; he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.

Allan raised his hand in triumph. “Robin will be very pleased.”

“But Vaisey escaped,” Guy’s angry voice resonated.

“There was no way we could capture this man today,” Archer emphasized. He tried to appear at ease, but there was a fire in his voice, in his face, and in his eyes. He, too, was disappointed that Vaisey had fled.

“Vaisey spoke about being informed what we are doing,” Guy said with alarm.

Megan paled and darted a glance in Guy's direction. “And Lord Buckingham told me that he knew all along that I wasn’t a kitchen maid.”

“What can it mean?” Allan’s voice was rising with each word.

“Many things,” Archer responded.

They all clammed up and wouldn't say another word because they had no idea what to think.

Allan broke the silence. “At least Guy killed the Earl of Buckingham.”

“Buckingham did deserve it,” Guy‘s sharp reply came.

“He did,” Megan whispered.

They had to wait for Melisende who would arrive to collect the chest of gold.

As Allan broke into tirades about the adventures of Robin Hood and his merry men, Archer listened with great attention, also sharing his own stories about his escapades in the East.

Wishing to talk in private, Guy and Megan stalked off into the forest. They stopped near two large birches growing on the steep sides of the ravine, where they thought they couldn’t be seen by Archer and Allan.

After a short silence, Megan spoke from the heart, expressing her gratitude. “Guy, I want to thank you for saving my life today. If you didn’t kill Buckingham, he would have murdered me.”

A smile flitted across Guy’s face. “I was very worried about you.”

She answered in a timorous voice, “I know.”

“It was a difficult mission, and we all could have died today.” He paused and dragged a ragged breath. “But we are all alive and have won this round. Now Prince John will be unable to bribe the King of France and the Holy Roman Emperor; it will be easier to collect the king’s ransom.” He let out a laugh. “I begin to believe that we should never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God, for it seems that God is on our side. And if the Lord is for us, who can be against us?” He sounded enthusiastic and cheerful.

Megan smiled at him. There was no lack of conviction in her head that the old Guy would have never referred to God in everyday life, especially not as far as a king was concerned. But the incarceration and the torture had redesigned his model of the world and had resulted in him metamorphosing from a brutal killer to a repentant man seeking redemption and developing faith in God. He was no longer a recalcitrant to the political forms instituted in England: it seemed that he had begun to respect the royal authority.

“You like that you are on the right side now,” she voiced her opinion.

“Yes, I do like it,” Guy responded without hesitation. “When I worked for Vaisey, I loathed myself. Now I don’t feel like a callous beast. It is a huge relief to be through the agonies of the past.”

“You are not a wretched man.”

Guy looked into her sad eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Meg, you are not happy, are you? We have money for the king’s ransom, and our liege will come back home soon! Isn’t it what you want?”

"I have always had unshrinking loyalty to our king. Our today’s success is a milestone in my life.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You surprise me. What happened, Meg?”

Megan surveyed Guy attentively. “Of course, nothing bad happened! You killed the Earl of Buckingham and saved my life. You rid us of another Black Knight, and the king will be grateful to you.” She trailed off, and she shook her head. Her visage was pale, and her body trembled slightly. “Now Lady Marian and you are free to marry. But she is the king’s ward, and you need the king’s consent.”

He rubbed his cheek in thought, and decided to just go ahead with the truth. “I begin to think that now Marian treasures her freedom more than ever.”

She glanced away. “It makes sense to me, but she may change her mind over time.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, I am not. I do wish you only happiness.” She felt her nerves tighten into a ball in her stomach. She couldn’t keep herself from being sarcastic. “If Lady Marian deigns to give you a positive answer, please don’t invite me to your wedding. I think I will find something else to do on this wonderful day.”

Guy took a step to her. A hand caught her and forced her to look at him. Staring into her eyes, he questioned, “Meg, what did I do wrong? Have I disappointed you?” He felt his heart pounding harder.

Megan smiled dejectedly, her eyes welling with tears. “It is not about you, Guy. It is about me,” she told him the truth. “I thought that I could be your friend, but I cannot.”

Megan loved Guy of Gisborne purely and unconditionally. She was no longer the independent and fiery Lady Megan Bennet who had rejected a multitude of marriage proposals and suitors. She was a woman full of love, passion, and tenderness, as well as of pain that her love for Guy would never be reciprocated. Her heart belonged to Guy, but he didn’t need it, and that hurt her beyond measure. She had already accepted that what she felt for Guy was an unrequited love and that he would always see in her a friend.

She had never thought that loving someone could be so searing, painful, sweet, spiritual, and fulfilling all at once. It was a strange feeling for her that she was able to love Guy with all her heart and soul, for she had always been on her own and her heart had never skipped a beat when any of her suitors had spared no effort in pleasing her. She had never thought that one day she would meet a man who would change her whole life and make her heart flutter at a mere sight of him or a simple sound of her name. Her love for Guy was like a sweet and tantalizing master of her body, soul, and mind, and she was completely in its thrall.

Megan loved Guy for who he was, with all the sins, faults, and demons which were an essential part of his biography. She loved him with all his faults and mistakes, with all the layers of darkness and goodness hidden deeply in his heart. His wounds skinned over and still rankled at his heart, and she would have gladly helped him heal them with her love and devotion if only he loved her. It didn’t matter who he was or what he had done before their meeting in prison, for she loved him without reservations.

She would have done everything for Guy. She could probably be content, knowing that Guy was alive and healthy. She had saved his life when he had been brutally tortured and had almost died; she had also saved his life from the Baron of Rotherham and had been injured herself. Today, she had saved the lives of Guy, Allan, and Archer, but she had been thinking mainly of Guy’s safety.

He took a deep breath. “Why?” he asked in a shocked voice.

Megan felt her heart beating so fast that she was not able to catch her breath. The painful sensation in her chest grew under the force of his inquisitive and penetrating gaze. “I think that you should understand everything, Guy. There is no need to explain.”

Guy’s heart thumped so hard that it felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. “Meg… Meg…” His voice came to a halt.

Guy gazed into her deep blue eyes for one long, beautiful moment, losing himself in their depths. Megan was very beautiful, and the aura of innocence and purity about her was so enticing that it drove him to the point of madness. He was physically attracted to her, and all his feelings were suddenly apparent on his face. Before she could say another word, he leaned down and kissed her.

Guy kissed Megan on the lips, gently and sweetly at first, as if he were trying to re-assure her that all the dangers were gone and that she was not dead. Guy’s sensual assault snapped Megan from her trance: her instincts surged to life, and she kissed him back, parting her lips and letting him thrust his tongue into her mouth. She flung her arms around his neck while one of his hands slid down her back to rest on her hip, pulling her even closer, the other cradling her neck.

They stood kissing for a long moment, pressing their bodies against each other. Megan felt an airy lightness, as if she were flying between heaven and earth, and sparks were igniting throughout her whole body. She couldn’t imagine that a man’s kiss could give her such magical sensations, making her feel as if her whole being had been invaded by a majestic splendor that was blinding in its intensity and so marvelous that the need for him was more than a physical pain. In every inch of herself, she felt the wonder of the new life that was blossoming in her heart, and she was hungry for more. _“I love you!”_ was all she wanted to cry.

Growing bolder, Guy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, almost immobilizing her in his grip. The kiss went on and on, sending surge after surge of pleasure through them. Suddenly, thoughts of Marian invaded Megan’s mind, and she started trembling as her nerves were getting the better of her. She pushed him away and then shrank from him, as if he were some species of poisonous reptile.

Megan bristled, “You have morals of a barn cat, Guy of Gisborne! I am not a wench who acts as a confidante to the drunkest and smelliest men in a local tavern! I am a lady of breeding and refinement!”

Guy blushed in embarrassment. “I am sorry,” he whispered.

“And so am I,” she murmured. She pressed her palms to her flaming cheeks, as if hiding them from him.

“I am sorry,” he repeated under his breath. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You are forgiven,” she replied courteously, but her voice was cold.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Megan looked at Guy with eyes blazing with feigned anger that masked all her pain and embarrassment. He stared back at her, his expression vulnerable, his chest heaving from the struggle with emotions, his eyes flashing in the moonlight. Breaking eye contact, Megan averted her eyes and sighed deeply, and she heard him sigh too. She graciously turned to him, her lips curled in an almost indistinct smile, and then she sauntered away with a backward glance as if to say that what had happened between them was a mistake.

Guy followed her with his eyes, admiring the sight of her slender figure sparkling magnificently in the pale moonlight. “Meg,” he whispered to himself, and one corner of his mouth tilted up, a ghost of a smile stealing across his face. He knew that Megan loved him, and it stirred him to the very center of his being.

§§§

Guy hastened to retire to the depths of the forest in order to be alone. Lost in thoughts, he crossed a clearing and wandered around aimlessly for some time. Finally, Guy stopped near a tall, old oak and leaned against it; then his body slid to the ground. He sat still, drained of energy and feeling an absolute wreck.

A hand clamped on his shoulder, and Guy swung his gaze to Archer. Worried about his half-brother, Archer found him in the forest, determined to talk with Guy about Megan. It didn’t take him much time to discover Guy sitting on the grass, leaning against the trunk of the tree, his head in his hands.

“Well, well, well,” Archer drawled. “What happened to you after the kiss with Meg?”

Archer’s words instantly removed Guy from his slumber. He glanced at his half-brother, his expression angry. “Sometimes, I want to kill you with my bare hands. Did you eavesdrop?”

Archer settled on the ground next to Guy. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then what?” Guy’s voice was edged with wrath.

“I was in the woods when you and Megan were in that clearing. I didn’t hear what you had told her, but I saw you kissing her, and I saw the two of you abruptly pull away.”

“It was a mistake. I… acted on impulse, and it will never happen again.”

Archer gave a short burst of laughter. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I think that you are wrong because you like Meg very much.”

“Yes, I do like her, but it is not what you think.” Guy couldn’t deny that he was fascinated with Megan, but he prohibited himself from thinking of her.

“Meg is a beautiful, well-bred, and intelligent girl,” Archer continued, grinning. “She obviously likes you, and you do like her too. Yet, despite her feelings for you, Meg is not chasing after you, for she supposes that you don’t have any affection for her.” His grin widened. “This characterizes her as a decent woman, which is a rare thing for a lady raised at royal court.”

“I know all her good qualities, Archer,” Guy stated. “But I don’t want to talk about her.”

Archer only laughed. “What’s the matter, brother? Why don’t you want to talk about Meg?” he asked sympathetically and yet with a challenge. “I know that you do like her a lot, but you are trying not to think of her. But if you let yourself just feel, you will fall in love with her.”

“You are talking nonsense.”

“No, I am not, and you know this,” Archer countered, looking into Guy’s eyes. “Then why don’t you want to propose to Meg? Isn’t she a great match for a marriage?”

A dark shadow crossed Guy’s face. “Oh, yes, she is too suitable.” He suddenly was very angry with himself for his confusion. He took a stick in his hand and threw it away.

“You are developing a deep affection for Meg while still thinking of Marian,” Archer continued, trying to keep a note of sarcasm out of his voice; he failed, and his speech sounded like a mocking notation. “Do you love them both equally? Or whom do you love more?”

“I don’t know, Archer.”

“You are a bad liar, Guy. And you cannot lie to yourself.”

Guy huffed in annoyance. "Have you become my confessor?”

“A bad time to jest, brother,” Archer said seriously. “Robin loves both Marian and Melisende. He is torn between them. He is deeply in love with his wife, but she loves him more than he loves her.”

Guy let out a small smile. “Lady Melisende is the most beautiful woman I have ever met. It is very easy to fall in love with her, although I cannot say about myself I could fall for her that easily.”

Archer smiled knowingly. “I myself would have married her with great pleasure.”

“Be careful, brother,” Guy cautioned, but his eyes danced with imps of joy. “If Robin could hear you now, he would have gotten angry and called you out for a duel.”

“He would have understood.” Archer winked at Guy. “Or we would have simply had a mocking fight.”

“I know that you are both mischief-makers.”

“Yes, we are,” Archer pronounced with a note of pride in his voice.

“For a long time, I feared that Marian still loves Robin.” Guy’s eyes flashed with sadness. “I know that it is not Robin’s fault, and I don’t blame him for that.”

“Do you really want to be with her?” Archer asked in a lower voice that was almost a murmur.

“I don’t know,” Guy replied evenly. “It is a difficult question.”

 “You should think of your personal situation very hard.”

Leaning against the tree, Guy was thinking of his feelings for two women – Marian and Megan. He still felt something for Marian and always missed her when she was not with him. Yet, every time he thought of Marian, he also thought of Robin Hood and Marian’s feelings for her childhood sweetheart. Yet, he didn’t want to analyze the reason for his misgivings and pry into his sensations.

Guy lifted his face to gaze at the fathomless blue-black vault of a sky glittering with stars. His mind drifted back to Megan, and he marveled at the understanding that even a simple thought about her could make him feel appeased and free. Megan allowed him to be himself and always encouraged him to be confident of his strengths. His heart blossomed in a thousand songs – songs for the dawn of a new love.

Megan! Her name was the constant companion of peace which Guy felt so rarely. His heart had wept so many tears of grief on account of Marian’s lingering love for Robin that now he was too tired of doubts and wanted clarity instead of confusion; he needed long hoped-for peace instead of constant struggle and pain. All at once, his relationship with Megan – their current friendship and their mutual physical attraction – seemed simpler than his tumultuous relationship with Marian. His heart was singing songs for the faded days of his life, but he felt that the sunrise was close to revealing itself and having the canvas of his life tinged in shades of pinks and roses – the shades of his soul’s resurrection and his second advent.

Archer surveyed his half-brother and chuckled to himself, comprehending that Guy had come to certain conclusions. Then a large smile formed on his face as a thought struck him – he would try to help Guy realize the importance of Megan in his life from a different angle.

Usually, Guy didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but tonight he needed an ear. “There was the time when I thought that I loved Marian. I craved to marry her despite the knowledge that she didn’t love me and despite my suspicions that she still carried a torch for Robin. I hoped that she would fall in love with me after our wedding, and I also wanted to take away everything Robin held dear.” He emitted a dolorific sigh. “I hoped that she would love me and only me, but it didn’t happen so.”

“Yes, it didn’t,” Archer said matter-of-factly.

Guy couldn't mask the edge of bitterness in his voice as he continued speculating aloud. “I didn’t want Marian to be a carpet under my feet, but I wanted her to be a good and loving wife to me.” He sighed heavily. “I did love an idealized version of Marian, as I imagined her to be – a pure and innocent Marian. But everything turned out so different: she is a different woman from what I wanted her to be and from a woman whom I wanted and want to be my life companion.”

Archer smiled sympathetically. “You thought that you had loved Marian and only her, but you discovered that Marian is not what she seemed.”

Guy squeezed his eyes shut for an instant. “Yes.” He opened them and blinked. “We were married, but there was always Robin…” He dragged a deep, painful breath, holding it longer than he should have. “Now I can see that Marian hasn’t forgotten Robin, although I am not aware how deep her feelings for him are running. She always compares me to him, and I often wonder whether she will ever stop.”

“You must hate these comparisons.”

“Yes, I do hate them.” Guy’s voice sounded hollow. “I hate when she says that Robin would have done this or that. This tune is driving me to the verge of insanity. I am not Robin Hood, and I will never be like him.” A sigh of frustration escaped his lips. “And yet, I understand why she compares him to me.”

“Do you want me to explain the reason to you?”

After a moment’s pause, Guy responded, “I know why she is doing that. Robin Hood is a fabled hero and a legend of England; he has created a great legacy of glorious and good deeds for England and the whole world. He has enriched our lives with the general understanding of our capabilities to fight for justice and against evil; with his generous hand, he scattered the gems of his goodness all around in England.”

“That’s true, brother. But there is a more important reason.”

“What do you mean, Archer?”

“Robin Hood is _the love of Marian’s life_ ,” Archer enunciated and paused for a moment. He could see his brother’s face contort in anguish, but he had to continue as he wanted Guy to finally realize the truth about Marian. “You don't know what you had until it is gone. I think that _Marian began to love Robin more after his death than ever before._ Maybe she didn’t realize the true depth of her love for him until the tragic events in Acre, but the loss of him evoked stronger and deeper feelings in her heart. After his death, her head cleared of confusion: she fathomed out the reason behind her inability to move on and be happy with you.”

A dejected Guy glanced away, peering into the night woodland. Archer’s words went to his chest like a dagger; and yet, it didn’t begin to bleed because they didn’t cause any heart wound. “Marian told me that she had realized many things after Robin’s death.” He inhaled deeply to steady his nerves; he looked back at his brother. “She said that now her head is as clear as never before.”

“You see I am right, Guy!” Archer exclaimed, smiling smugly. “I also suspect that Marian still blames you for Robin’s death. You told me that she had asked you many times to kill Vaisey during our voyage to Acre, but you ignored her solicitations. Women have a strong talent for resentment, and they project their anger with themselves onto men where it becomes resentment.”

Guy sighed heavily. “Maybe you are right, and she resents me a little bit.” Another sigh followed. “A man may fall in love with a woman's body and soul or love the ideal woman that she doesn’t represent, but if his feelings are not returned, marriage becomes a living hell.”

“Guy, I know… that it is difficult for you to talk about that.”

Gisborne shook his head. "Strangely, it is not. Not now." He paused, searching for the right words. "My life is becoming strange. I am changing, and my feelings are changing too.”

“Maybe you should think of marrying Meg,” Archer suggested.

Guy heaved a sigh. “Meg might have fallen in love with me, but she needs a better man than me. She doesn’t deserve a man with my biography, and she doesn’t deserve to suffer from an unrequited love.”

“I don’t think that you love Marian too deeply,” Archer expressed his opinion.

“Perhaps.” Guy was willing to say something else on the matter, but he was interrupted.

“Guy! Archer! Come here!” Allan’s voice coursed through the fresh night air.

“What the devil is going on?” Guy asked, looking round.

“Allan needs us,” Archer replied.

Archer and Guy rose to their feet and strode towards the clearing where Allan waited for them. They heard many unfamiliar voices speaking in Norman-French, growing louder and louder as they approached the clearing. As they came closer, they saw many men who wore tunics with _the coat of arms of Coeur de Lion._ Dismounting, the king’s men tied the animals securely to the sturdy branches of nearby trees.

Megan was not there, but Guy and Archer spotted two women whom they recognized forthwith. One of the ladies was Lady Melisende Plantagenet dressed in a tight red gown with a V-shaped neckline and a long train trailing behind her. Next to Melisende, stood her chief lady-in-waiting, Lady Catherine de Mathefelon, chatting with her mistress. Then they saw Megan and Allan standing a small distance from the two women; they watched Megan amble towards Melisende, and Archer pushed Guy ahead, signaling him to join Megan.

Guy strained his eyesight to see Megan better. He caught up with her several steps from the place where Melisende stood, and his heart pounded harder in sudden exhilaration. He was happy to see her again, to be close to her. Guy also spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man – Sir Roger de Tosny, Baron de Conches.

Melisende pulled Megan into a warm embrace, and they laughed in a care-free manner, like two little girls. They knew each other very well, for they had spent their childhood at court in Poitou. They had played games and enjoyed the art of troubadours together. They had even shared the same teacher who had taught them various languages, music, mathematics, and all other things Queen Eleanor had wanted them to know.

Melisende smiled as she disentangled from their embrace. “It is such happiness to see you, Meg!” She eyed the other lady. “Let me look at you! You are so beautiful!”

Megan smiled back. “Lady Melisende, you are much more beautiful than me. I am simply lovely.” Despite their closeness, there was always a formal distance between them: Megan didn’t dare forget that Melisende belonged to the royal family, and Melisende didn’t allow Megan to forget that.

Guy approached them and bowed. “Lady Melisende, it is nice to see you again.”

“Congratulations, Sir Guy,” Melisende said sincerely, a smile quivering in the corners of her lips. “You have done a great job today. Richard will never forget your contribution to his release.”

Guy dipped his head. “I pledged my loyalty to King Richard, and I am going to keep my word.”

“I am glad to hear this, Sir Guy,” Melisende uttered. “Richard is always generous to those who serve him well. He will reward you when he comes back to England.”

“I need nothing more than the king gave me,” Guy assured her.

Melisende smiled. “It is not our prerogative to decide it.”

“And the king’s will is always final,” Megan entered the conversation.

“Of course,” Guy said quietly.

Megan smiled at Melisende. “How are the deals at Prince John’s court? Is Amicia still there?”

Melisende nodded. “Amicia will be staying with John until the very end. I will tell you everything later, on the way to Dover.”

Megan sighed. “Well, I just hope that Amicia will be alright.”

Melisende let out a smile. “She can take care of herself.”

A puzzled Guy gazed at Meg. “Meg, are you leaving?”

“Yes,” Megan confirmed. “We will see one another in Aquitaine.”

Guy regretted that Megan was leaving England and him. “Good,” he replied with a smile.

Melisende informed them, “I am going to begin the official negotiations about Richard’s ransom and the conditions for his release as soon as I arrive in Aquitaine.” She veered her gaze to Guy. “Sir Guy, please release Aunt Eleanor as soon as possible. And keep Robin safe when you go to Pontefract Castle.”

“I will,” Guy pledged.

Melisende and Megan joined Catherine de Mathefelon and busied themselves with casual talk.

“How are you, Guy?” Roger de Tosny asked as he approached his friend.

“Well, I am not dead, which is good,” Guy responded with a smile.

De Tosny smiled. “I am delighted to see you again.” Then his expression changed into seriousness. “I talked to Isabella when I saw her at court. I hoped that she was willing to switch sides, but it seems that she will remain loyal to Prince John,” he enlightened, regret creeping into his voice.

“I don’t want to talk about Isabella,” Guy barked. “What are your other plans?”

“Lady Melisende is going to Aquitaine, and I will accompany her. Then I am going to join King Richard’s army in Normandy. Robert de Beaumont will also join me after the rescue of the Queen Mother.”

Guy ran his eyes over the king’s men who crowded the clearing. “And these men?”

“You need more soldiers when you come to Pontefract. These men are utterly loyal to King Richard. They are all former Crusaders who fought alongside the king in the Holy Land.”

Guy nodded in understanding. “I see.”

Soon Melisende, Megan, Roger, and a handful of the king’s loyal men departed, taking the direct route to Dover. Watching them disappear in the forest, Guy thought that he wanted Megan to stay with him; he didn’t deny that he was already waiting for the next meeting with Megan.

“I am relieved that we don’t have to take the chest with us,” Archer broke the silence. “But is such a pity that Meg left. I will miss her.”

“I will miss Meg, too, but Guy will miss her much more than anyone else.” Allan was very interested in Guy’s relationship with Megan. “Memories about Meg will glow in your heart, Guy.”

Archer winked at his half-brother. “There is enough strength in Guy to endure any torture, including the separation from the lovely Lady Megan.”

Guy looked between the two other men in vexation. “The two of you should mind your own business,” he snarled. He glanced around, his eyes taking in the group of the warriors who crowded on the clearing. A thought occurred to him: they needed to leave. “Mount! We shall ride to Pontefract!” he proclaimed.

§§§

Guy, Archer, and Allan rode to Pontefract Castle without stopping anywhere for the whole night and the next morning; they were escorted by a squad of the knights who had arrived with Melisende. The new mission was the rescue of Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. By the time they reached their destination, the battle for Pontefract Caste, one of the principal strongholds in the north of England, had already begun.

Robin, Guy, and their comrades were hiding among the trees and bushes near in the forest close to the castle. Robin sat on the ground, with Roger de Lacy, Much, Little John, and Carter sitting next to him; Marian chose to stay with Allan, Will, and Djaq, for she didn’t wish to be in the company of Robin and Guy; Guy and Archer were together. They watched the battle between the garrison of Pontefract, consisting of Prince John’s men from the elite guard and some mercenaries under the command of Lord Walter Sheridan, and the soldiers of King Richard’s loyal men led by Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester.

Everything happened quickly: the king’s men, who were disguised as Prince John’s men, had deceived the soldiers at the gates by showing them a fake letter from the prince, which had helped them to be admitted inside the fortress. Crowned with ten towers, Pontefract was a huge stone castle of a concentric design, almost an unscalable castle; it also enjoyed the protection of two outer walled baileys. The king’s soldiers had no time to besiege the castle and, thus, had to use a trick to get inside.

As soon as the gates had been opened, the king’s loyal men had stormed into the courtyard, and the fierce battle with the garrison of Pontefract had started. Prince John’s men encountered the king’s men with rising rage, not losing confidence. The battle also raged near the outer walls of the fortress as the prince’s soldiers were trying to resist the onslaught of the king’s men who were adamant about getting into the stronghold. 

However, the king’s men were full of vigor and high spirits, and they were eager to get to grips with the enemy. They began the rampageous assault and swiftly broke through the dense human mass of the fighting soldiers, advancing towards the Queen’s Tower. Each party fought with complete abandon, swinging their swords at everything that came near. Leicester and Sheridan shouted commands in Norman-French, their voices urgent and clear, edged with the undeniable determination to win the battle. There was a cacophony of noise all around – the clatter of metal on metal, the hiss of arrows, the loud squealing of horses; shouts of the fighting men, moans of the wounded and dying, and yells “To victory!”

"Charge them! For King Richard! For England!” Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, shouted in Norman-French. Then he repeated the same in English.

Robin dispassionately observed the men locked in mortal combat. “The battle should be over soon, and we will take the castle then,” he voiced his hopes.

Much frowned. “It is bad when countrymen fight! Prince John is disgusting!”

“The prince is despicable,” Carter agreed.

The battle continued with an attack, a retreat, then another attack, and with an increasingly higher level of violence as well. Surrounded by five warriors for his protection, the Earl of Leicester was trying to make his way on his horse to Lord Sheridan and capture the villain. Unfortunately, Leicester’s horse was shot by a random arrow as a wave of whistling arrows thundered towards the earl and his men. Leicester’s voiced boomed all over the battlefield as he called to his men to hold their positions.

 “I want Sheridan alive!” Robert de Beaumont yelled in a voice tinged with hatred for his ex-trainer. Now he was fighting in the heart of the battle, surrounded by his most loyal men who were ready to protect their famous and beloved commander with their lives. “I want this traitor alive!”

As he heard Leicester’s words, Robin sighed heavily; the thought that Sheridan had betrayed the king was too painful. “I have never imagined that Lord Sheridan can backstab us.”

Roger de Lacy nodded grimly. “Sheridan taught us to fight when we had our knighthood training in Poitou. But he is a traitor to England and King Richard. He must die for his crimes.”

De Lacy didn’t participate in the battle because today his role was not a military one. Pontefract Castle had been constructed in approximately 1070 by Sir Ilbert de Lacy, and the de Lacy family owned it since the Norman Conquest. Roger de Lacy had spent his childhood in Pontefract and, hence, knew perfectly well all the entrances and exits. Despite the fact that he had been held captive for several months in the Tower, Roger still officially owned the great northern fortress. While de Beaumont and his men were responsible for the battle, de Lacy stayed with Robin and the others to sneak into the castle through the secret passage, the location of which only he alone knew.

“This man is the worst traitor ever,” Much snarled with a hateful expression. “He was the king’s friend and confidant, and the king loved him. And yet, he betrayed our liege and England.”

“Sheridan fought alongside King Richard in all the wars in Normandy and Aquitaine before Richard’s accession to the throne,” Carter spoke, a clear note of disappointment in his voice. “He didn’t teach me to fight, but I never expected this man to openly side with Prince John, against our king.”

“I swear I will deal with the Black Knights!” Robin vowed with intense and genuine anger packed in his voice; his fists clenched. “Gisborne killed Rotherham and Buckingham, but Vaisey, Sheridan, Durham, and Spenser are still alive. We will show irksome weeds no mercy!”

Much, Roger, and Carter were accustomed to Robin’s uncompromisingly hateful attitude to all traitors, so they were not amazed by Robin’s outburst.

Carter growled, “All I can say, my friends, is that I would love to have them all captured and executed in front of a bloodthirsty crowd. “But if they are killed in battle, I won’t be disappointed.”

Robin hissed, “ _I would have preferred to kill Vaisey myself._ ”

Little John entered the conversation. “Robin, we are trying not to kill.”

“We kill if we have to,” Robin corrected. “And I don’t mind killing traitors like Vaisey.”

John shook his head disapprovingly. “No, Robin. It is not right to speak so.”

“We agree to disagree,” Robin said dismissively.

“We won’t let you kill Vaisey, Robin, but for different reasons,” Carter announced.

"Vaisey should be hanged, drawn, and quartered,” de Lacy barked.

“I thought the same in Acre, when I could kill him and Marian begged me to give him to the king alive.” Robin’s voice sounded far-away, his expression was distant. “And it was a mistake.”

“Robin, don’t remember that,” Much said worriedly. “You must forget.”

Robin smiled a little sadly. “I will try.” His voice lacked conviction.

Not far from them, Marian and Allan sat on the ground a small distance from Will and Djaq. Repulsed by the sight of the slaughter and trying to distract her mind from musings about Guy and Robin, Marian focused her attention on Will and Djaq who were sharpening their swords, her heart beating faster at the thought that at least two of Robin’s friends found happiness together.

“Maz?” Allan called, moving her out of her thoughts.

She turned to Allan, smiling slightly. “What?”

Allan bent his head to Marian and whispered into her ear, “I know that all your thoughts are about Robin. If you need an ear, I am here for you.”

“No, thank you, Allan.”

“Why not?"

She cast her eyes down. “I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself.”

“I will say only one thing,” Allan spoke very quietly, his voice silky smooth. He paused and went on when she gazed back at him. “I see that you want to be with Robin. It is not easy for you to know that Robin is not available. When you are in love and cannot be with your beloved, you want to fall asleep because your dreams seem better than reality.” He paused for a moment. “But darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. This light can come not only from love, but also from the understanding of your destiny.”

For a moment, Marian didn’t speak.  She canted her head, and her sapphire eyes lit on her face. Allan noticed that her hair was a magnificent shade of lighter brown after a few weeks of living in Sherwood and spending much time outdoors, under the sun; her hair seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

Her face imbued with a sense of something omniscient, Marian articulated, “I think now I understand my destiny. I feel that it is not to be a wife and a mother, although I would have given everything to turn time back so that–” She broke off suddenly, unable to say the words aloud – she would have married Robin instead of Guy then. “I feel that I will have to do something important for England, the king, and the people. Maybe I will find peace then.” She had an unexplainable feeling of foreboding.

Allan regarded her with fondness. “It is gonna be funny to see how you will fulfill your destiny, Marian.”

Marian chuckled. “Maybe we will laugh together, Allan.”

“What are you talking about?” Djaq inquired as she and Will appeared near Allan and Marian.

Allan smiled eagerly. “Oh, mates, we missed you, but you were busy.” His smile grew wider as he prepared to lie for Marian’s sake. “We were discussing King Richard.”

Marian smiled gratefully at Allan. Allan was a good man; he was a liar, but it was the moment when she appreciated this quality in him. “It would be wonderful when the king is finally home.”

Will sat down on the grass near Djaq. “At first, we have to free the Queen Mother.”

“And it will happen today,” Djaq uttered as she settled beside Will; she smiled as he took her hand in his.

Allan grinned as he swept his eyes over Will and Djaq’s entwined fingers. “Mates, don’t leave us for  long. Later you will have more time to pick up honey and berries.”

“Euphemism, as Much says?” Will inquired in a joyful tone.

“Of course,” Allan retorted with a laugh.

At the same time, Archer and Guy were hidden amongst the bushes like the others. Guy watched the battle in silence, while Archer observed him from the corner of his eye.

Guy glanced at the warriors. “Each party is resolute to fight to the death.”

Archer inclined his head in agreement. “I fear it will delay us here for an indefinite amount of time.”

“Maybe not,” Guy presumed. “The battle-hardened Crusaders are fighting against the trained soldiers from the elite guard and mercenaries. It should take some time for the king’s men to win as the enemies are experienced enough to hold on for some time; they are not like the guards from Nottingham.”

“That is true,” Archer assented. “But it is dangerous too.”

“Well, I believe that Sir Robert de Beaumont knows what he is doing.”

They saw the Earl of Leicester and several more men attempting to make their way to Sheridan again in order to capture him. Yet, Sheridan was lucky and somehow managed to blend with the dense crowd. And then Sheridan retreated to the castle, leaving Sir Jasper of Ashton to command the prince’s men. Horses came thundering out of the trees as more of the king’s men joined the battle; as they reached the castle walls, they dismounted and closed up in combat formation, shield to shield.

“They failed to capture Lord Sheridan,” Archer observed.

“Bloody hell,” Guy cursed, reaching for his sword. “There may be a trap for us in the castle.”

“And Vaisey may be there too,” Archer assumed.

Anger gurgled in the pit of Guy’s stomach, his expression turning hateful. “My gut feeling tells me that we will meet Vaisey today. I always feel when he is around.”

“He will try to kill you and Robin.”

“For sure.”

“We must watch over Robin. Who knows what he will do.” Archer’s voice sounded anxious.

“Robin can try to take revenge on Vaisey,” Guy mused. “I will try to be around Robin.”

“Do you really want to protect him?” Archer wasn’t amazed at all.

Guy nodded. “Yes, I do want to protect Robin. I promised Lady Melisende, and I will keep my word.”

Archer’s brow arced with curiosity. “Is it the only reason?”

“It is my duty to protect Robin from Vaisey because of my role in the tragedy in Acre. I also tried to kill him many times, and I did really want him dead.” Guy trailed off, shifting on the ground as if in discomfort. “I also promised Lady Melisende that I would watch over him.”

“We will be with Robin.” Guy’s words made Archer respect his half-brother more than ever.

“Archer,” Guy said quietly, “if Marian is separated from Robin and me after we break into the castle, please follow her. I don’t want her to do anything reckless today.”

“But Robin asked Carter to protect her.”

“No,” Guy responded curtly, shaking his head. “In the Tower, Carter asked her to stay out of the fight and went to help Robin. This time, he can do that again.”

“Well, I will keep an eye on Marian.” Archer didn’t like that he wouldn’t be with Robin, but he decided to grant Guy’s wish. “I don’t want this lady dead either.”

The battle was far from its end. It wasn’t a bloody massacre, like many battles in Outremer, but it was gradually becoming something close to a butchering. Men fell on both sides as each party was mercilessly slaughtering the enemies, slicing off limbs and cutting into necks, faces, and chests as if they were made of butter. More and more of Sheridan’s men attacked the king’s men who went on a rampage and ripped every beat on their path. All at once, a new solid wave of Prince John’s men emerged from the courtyard and attacked the king’s men. The losses on both sides were heavy, without any decisive result being attained.

“Don’t fight against your king! Put down your weapons!” the Earl of Leicester shrilled as he swung his scimitar here and there. “Surrender, and we won’t kill you!”

“Fight for the new England and your future king – King John!” Sir Jasper of Ashton’s voice coursed through the air. “Fight for the golden age in England!”

Instead of surrendering to Leicester’s men, Prince John’s soldiers became more inspired to hold the castle and launched a ferocious attack on the tightly compressed mass of their foes. In a frenzy of rage, the king’s men initiated the severe offensive that was meant to bring them victory. The clang of metal was deafening, and the screams of the wounded and dying could be heard from every direction. Arrows flew in the air like lightning, forming a menacing cloud, and many men collapsed beneath the deadly fire.

 “If you are fighting against King Richard’s loyal men, you are traitors to your king!” Leicester roared as a white-hot fury overcame him. “If you don’t surrender, you will die!”

The king’s men directed their attack straight into the heart of the enemy’s forces that had formed the line near the main entrance to the castle. Prince John’s men were not going to surrender because John had ordered to hold the castle at any cost, and they feared John’s wrath. Soon, however, the king’s men broke the line and forced their way into the inner courtyard. All of a sudden, more men stormed out of the castle and charged into the battle, their attack coordinated by Lord Sheridan and Sir Jasper. Leicester’s men launched a new well-directed and vigorous assault, and soon Sheridan’s men started losing. In an hour when Sheridan’s men had lost a half of their numbers in the least; yet, they still didn’t capitulate.

“Kill all these traitors!” Leicester shouted. “Death to all those who don’t want to surrender!”

“It is time,” Robin told his friends, smiling feebly.

Robin hoped that nothing would go wrong today. Yet, a feeling of premonition stole over him, growing stronger with every beat of his heart. Animated images of death and doom flashed in his mind, chilling him to the bone and adding to his growing anxiety. Why was he feeling so if the king’s men were winning the battle for Pontefract Castle? He drove these thoughts out of his mind with effort.

Leicester’s call to kill the traitors was a pre-agreed signal that it was time to enter the castle through the secret passage. The battle was almost over, and its outcome was now obvious. It was only a matter of time before the king’s men defeated the enemies and took the stronghold. The king’s men didn’t know that Lord Sheridan and Sir Jasper had already abandoned all of their men and had retreated to the castle, for they had another plan against Robin Hood and his friends.

“Robert has done a great job,” Carter commended with deep respect to his comrade.

“As always,” de Lacy pointed out. “Robert is an incredibly talented military commander and fighter.”

“We should go. Robert will deal with the prince’s men without us,” Robin’s urgent voice resonated.

Roger de Lacy was leading Robin and the others to the secret passage in one of the walls of the fortress. They saw bodies piled on the ground, blood flowed on the stone pavement like water, and their ears seemed filled with the harrowing screams and moans of the many fallen warriors. There was no joy in their hearts as they surveyed the battlefield that glittered red in the sunlight, like the blaze of a funeral fire. There was no relief in them either as it seemed that there was seemingly no end to sufferings and conflict.

§§§

Robin, Guy, and the others could see once more that Pontefract Castle was an unassailable fortress as soon as they managed to get within the castle walls through the secret tunnel and then to the large garden. They could see the tall towers that climbed to vast heights – the King’s Tower and Queen's Tower. In accordance with the information they possessed, the Queen Mother was held captive in the Queen’s Tower.

In the garden, there were oaks, apple trees, maples, limes, and birches. There was a huge green lawn in the middle that showed the effects of the million rakes gardeners applied to the grass. There was also a small plantation of raspberries and mulberries as Roger de Lacy’s wife liked these fruits.

They quickly passed through the vast courtyard in the back side of the castle and made their way to the servants’ quarters. As they passed through another courtyard, they descended the stairs and were now in the semi-dark spacious room that was illuminated by two flickering torches that hung on the walls; there was no furniture there, except for two old chairs and a desk in the corner.

“We have come,” Roger de Lacy stated as they stopped near the entrance to the underground tunnels.

Marian felt her anxiety growing. “Where are we going now?”

Robin caught Marian’s distress. “Are you alright?” he asked, raising his eyebrows with a pleasant air of consideration.

“Naturally,” Marian assured him with a smile.

De Lacy gave Marian a haughty smile. “Are you scared, Lady Marian? You should have stayed in Sherwood instead of going on this mission. Battlefield is not a suitable place for a lady.”

“Lady Marian is brave and fearless! She can fight like a man, but she can be very reckless,” Much interposed, his gaze flickering between Robin and Marian. “Lady Marian and Robin are two most reckless people in the world. They always court trouble, and we have to save them. We should keep an eye on them.”

“Mind your business, Lord Much,” Guy snapped wrathfully.

“Much, please…” Robin wasn’t looking at them, staring at the trees in the garden; they were waiting for Will and Djaq who were a little behind them.

“I only said the truth,” Much defended himself.

Robin smiled. “I know, my friend.”

Guy repressed an outburst of anger. He never liked Roger de Lacy, and his antipathy grew to resentment after the clash in Acre when Roger had almost killed him. “She is not scared, Lord de Lacy. She is more courageous and bolder than all other women altogether. She is even braver than many men are.”

“Guy, I can defend myself.” Marian gave Guy a smile of gratitude; then she turned her gaze to de Lacy. “Lord de Lacy, I know that you don’t have any sympathy for me, but I ask you to be polite.”

Roger laughed. “I was polite, but I told you an important thing.”

“We don’t have time to discuss such things now,” Archer intervened. He looked over his shoulder at Will and Djaq who had finally got caught up with them. “We shall go to the dungeons right now.”

“The dungeons?” Little John inquired.

“Exactly,” Roger confirmed. “No need to worry. I know the way by heart.”

Robin looked between Marian and Carter. “Carter, please stay with Marian near the entrance. If something bad or unexpected happens, go inside and find us using the trail we will create; in this case, Marian should leave the castle and hide in the forest.”

“I won’t leave you all here, Robin. I can fight, and I want to fight,” Marian objected tempestuously. Her nostrils flared in anger, and her eyes narrowed in irritation. “I can take care of myself!”

Guy approached Marian and wrapped his hand around her waist. “Marian, I agree with Locksley. You are better to stay here and leave if we… fail to rescue the Queen Mother.”

Marian looked at Guy; then her gaze slid to Robin. “No, I want to stay,” she expostulated. She stepped away from Guy, for she didn’t wish to be touched in front of her friends; not now.

Carter, Archer, John, Allan, Will, and Djaq were silent, not wishing to take part in the argument.

“Stop being so stubborn, Lady Marian,” de Lacy reprimanded. “Do what Robin says.”

“Fine,” Marian acceded to Robin’s request, obviously angry.

“Not a bad idea,” Carter voiced his opinion; he wanted to be at Robin’s side more than at Marian’s.

“I think Archer, not Carter, should stay with Marian,” Guy opined; he didn’t trust Carter who always put Robin’s life above everyone’s, but he trusted Archer’s word to take care of Marian.

Robin nodded. “Agreed.” He gazed at Roger. “We are running out of time. Follow Roger and me.”

Holding a torch in his hand, Roger de Lacy opened the heavy oak door to the underground tunnel; then he walked in and motioned everyone to follow suit. Robin, Guy, and the others followed Roger and soon disappeared in the darkness; John was the last one and closed the door behind them.

“I don’t like it,” Marian said, twisting her fingers nervously.

“It is just another great adventure,” Archer allayed her.

“I hope so.” Despite her calm, steady voice, Marian was in the agony of apprehension.

Roger, Robin, and the others were slowly walking through the underground tunnel, passing numerous cells where many people had died before. Although it was a luxurious castle thanks to de Lacy’s enormous expenses on the recent refurbishment, Pontefract also associated with a phenomenal amount of death and woes over the years. There was a huge network of dungeons hollowed out of the bedrock around thirty feet beneath the castle.

Robin was creating a trail of small pieces of white cloth behind them, like Pitts had done when the traitor had led the sheriff’s men to the cave where Marian had died and then had resurrected after the battle with Vaisey’s guards. He had many pieces of cloth which were carried by Much who gave him a new piece at Robin’s signal. Robin found the trail easily distinguishable in the torchlight; he silently thanked God that the way didn’t seem complicated for those who would probably follow them.

 “This is an awful place! This place is worse than the dungeons in Nottingham! It is so dark here despite the light from torches,” Much ranted, looking around at the stone walls and the doors to the small cells. “I want out of the dungeons! I want to save Queen Eleanor and go back to Sherwood to celebrate!”

Robin took a step forward, looking straight ahead. “Much, be quiet.”

John’s opinion coincided with Much’s. “It is really frightening.”

“Come on, John. There is nothing to fear,” Allan put their minds at ease. “We cannot be terrified of being in the dungeons after being caught in Nottingham many times over.”

“It is good that Marian stayed out of the dungeons,” Guy murmured.

“The tunnel system looks more complex than the dungeons in the castle of Nottingham,” Will observed. He paused to recover his breath, and his gaze fell on the inscriptions on the walls; he shuddered in horror. “Oh, my Lord! What is this?” But he didn’t need to ask, for he could see prisoners’ names scratched into the walls, probably in the agony of their torments.

“We are in the dungeons.” Carter curiously examined several inscriptions on the walls.

Robin caught Will’s eye. “Here you can see the names of the prisoners who had once been imprisoned and probably died here,” he enlightened, confirming Will’s thoughts.

"Hmm,” Much grunted, a little terrified. “It is dreadful and repugnant!”

“Will, don’t waste time,” John chided.

“Will, go ahead,” Robin commanded. “I will go after all of you, with Gisborne and Carter.”

“Pontefract Castle is not a bright place,” Roger muttered. “By the way, it was constructed on an old Anglo-Saxon burial ground, and some people consider it a bad omen.”

“I am not superstitious,” Djaq spoke, looking around.

Guy smiled at Djaq; he liked her very much since the moment she had treated the wounds on his back. “And neither am I,” he said softly. His smile widened as the young Saracen smiled back at him.

Much looked at Robin’s smiling face, not quite understanding why his former master was smiling. Then he crossed himself. “Oh, I hate this place! I hate these dungeons!”

Guy tugged at the sleeve of Robin’s tunic. “Locksley, would you mind to make your… friend shut up? His constant ranting irritates everyone.” He stopped himself in time not to call Much a servant.

Much threw Guy a hateful look. “Robin, I order him to shut up! He has no right to humiliate me! I won’t shut up just because this murderer wants me to be silent!”

“God, give me patience,” Guy hissed between clenched teeth.

“I will have no arguments between the two of you,” Robin closed the topic. He couldn’t allow the strife within his men to exist. “Is that clear?” The answer was silence which Robin accepted as their agreement.

Soon they reached the end of the underground dungeons. To get to the surface, they ascended a tall spiral staircase, their steps measured and accurate; now they were at the surface level. Soon they were inside a dark but spacious cell. De Lacy opened the door and invited his companions to go inside another room. De Lacy strode across the room and paused near the stone wall, signaling everyone to stop.

“What now, Roger?” Robin addressed his friend.

Roger crouched, and his hand began to grope the stone wall that looked pretty solid. “We are going to get into the armory at the Queen’s Tower; it is on the ground floor.” He clenched his fist and began to tap on the wall; he strained his ears, listening for the littlest of sounds as he tried to hear a hollow sound. “We can go there through another tunnel, then get to the courtyard, cross the inner garden and make it into the Queen’s Tower, but our enemies may know this way. So we will use another way which they don’t know for sure.”

Guy’s gaze traveled from Robin to Roger. “What do you mean, Lord de Lacy?”

Roger looked at Guy, his face cold and impassive. “Distrust is worthless in the situation when the owner of the castle is leading you and has absolutely no intention to betray you.” He glanced back at the stone wall and resumed tapping at it, now in a slightly different place. “You cannot lead men without trust, Gisborne. Didn’t Lord Vaisey teach you this lesson when you served him?”

Guy seethed with anger. “Don’t cross me, Lord de Lacy.”

Much smiled. “Roger is right! Gisborne cannot lead other men because they cannot believe him.”

“Oh, please stop it,” John almost begged.

“Mates, please stop attacking Guy. There were many men loyal to Guy in Nottingham. Not all the guards liked Vaisey,” Allan interceded for Guy. He felt as insulted as Guy did, as if de Lacy’s words were about him. Guy said nothing, but he smiled gaily at Allan who smiled back with a brighter smile.

“Robin?” Carter stared at Robin, anticipating his friend to stop the quarrel.

Will and Djaq were quiet, as always preferring non-interference.

“Roger, it is not a time for distrust and arguments,” Robin preached. He veered his gaze to Guy. “Gisborne, you should trust Roger.” His gaze went to Much. “Much, please don’t intervene when you are not asked.”

Much had a passing impulse to retort back, but he only muttered, “Nonsense!”

“Thank you, Locksley.” Guy’s respect to Robin grew. Robin was a competent leader and an accomplished military commander, not a cheeky outlaw who imagined himself the King of Sherwood as he had thought before; now he received an additional confirmation. He was grateful that Robin had given him his trust.

“You are welcome.” Robin didn’t smile back, but his voice was amicable.

“I found it,” de Lacy announced at last as he heard the hollow sound under his touch. He straightened his spine, looking at John. “John, will you be able to remove a stone block from there?”

Little John gave a nod. “Of course, Lord de Lacy.” He crouched and clenched his fists; then he pushed the stone block in the wall with all his might, and a door swung open. “Done.”

All eyes were glued to the door in the wall; now they realized what de Lacy had been insistently and patiently doing during the last minutes.

“Good,” Robin said briefly. “Are there any stairs there?”

“Yes,” de Lacy responded. “Be careful in this short tunnel.” He gave everyone a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I know each and every corner of my castle.”

De Lacy took the torch and entered, holding the torch in his arm. All the others followed suit; Guy was the last one to get inside. Robin, Guy, and the others, save Roger de Lacy, were astounded as they slowly made their way into through another tunnel, their hearts beating in agitation. At first, they could see only an unbroken night ahead, but then, in the torchlight, they discerned another turn in the tunnel.

Roger ran his eyes over the group of the man, his expression quite relaxed. “We shall go through this tunnel now. It will lead us to the armory in the Queen’s Tower.”

Everyone followed Roger as they walked through the long and dark tunnel, one of the many tunnels at Pontefract. It was almost dark there as a light came only from the torch carried by de Lacy, so the last people in the group had to grope their way. Yet, soon their eyes became used to the darkness.

“So many tunnels,” Guy muttered under his breath.

“It is like a labyrinth,” Much commented. “If you lose your way, you can easily die here.”

“Roger, does someone else know about this tunnel?” Robin asked with interest.

“Only my father knew this way to the castle. He showed it to me.” De Lacy paused, waiting for the others.

Finally, they stopped at the end of the tunnel. They removed another stone block after discovering the hollow place in the wall. Roger opened the door in the wall and invited his friends to the armory.

“Ouch! Such wonders in the dungeons!” an impressed Allan exclaimed.

“My ancestors have been using this door for years,” Roger boasted.

Will looked dumbfounded. “My goodness! The door is almost indistinguishable!”

“Will, speak more quietly,” Robin demanded.

They did as Roger wished and boldly entered the spacious room. Now they were in the armory located on the ground floor of the Queen’s Tower, where many swords, spears, and other weapons were kept. Four soldiers stared in shock at the intruders, not understanding how they managed to appear there.

Djaq extracted a small pouch from her inner pocket and opened it. Then she rushed to the guards and she flung the white powder in the guards’ faces. The men began coughing and collapsed on the floor.

“Great job,” Guy commented with a smile. He had seen many incredible tricks during the missions of Robin Hood and his gang in Nottingham, and he had always been impressed with them. He suspected that many tricks used by the outlaws were invented by Djaq.

Djaq chuckled. “Oh, we often do things like this.”

Carter smiled knowingly. “The Saracens have better tricks, which we can learn and use to our advantage.”

Robin hastily took his bow, preparing to shoot; Much handed to him two arrows, and Robin drew his bow. “I am very sorry.” He cast an apologetic glance at the guards, and fired one arrow.

A feathered shaft whistled by Guy’s head, close enough that a waft of air brushed his cheek. “It is good that your aim is deadly, Locksley. Otherwise, I would have been killed by this arrow.” He smiled, thinking that Robin would be probably flattered. His smile was wiped off his faces as soon as he saw Robin’s empty eyes.

“It is not a blessing – it is a curse, Gisborne. I am not proud of what I am doing now.” Robin was about to nock another arrow when Guy’s baritone stopped him.

“I myself will do that.” Guy drew his broadsword. “It is better to kill them off in a different manner: if we use only a bow, it will remind everyone of Robin Hood and his gang.”

“I agree.” De Lacy unsheathed his scimitar. “I will help you, Gisborne.”

“As you wish.” Robin’s eyes were glassy, his heart hammering harder and harder. He didn’t feel well after he had killed one man in cold blood, even though he had to do that.

Robin closed his eyes for a moment, determined to work through a fog of guilt that was settling into his mind. He opened his eyes and stared at Guy and Roger. He watched Guy plunge his sword into the chests of two guards and Roger slash the throat of the fourth man. Roger withdrew the arrow from the neck of the guard killed by Robin. He shook his head, as if trying to shake off the repugnance he felt.

Guy came close to Robin. “Snap out of it, Robin. We had to kill them.” He wiped his sword with the cloth he had taken from the pocket of his trousers and sheathed it then.

Robin sighed. “Did you kill two of these men to help me?” His voice was toneless.

Guy nodded. “Although you don’t like killing in cold blood, sometimes you have to kill in this manner.” He sighed. “Dauntless bravery and inborn honor are two of your many virtues. Unfortunately, in certain situations, an excess of them can be your great foible.”

Robin glared at Guy. “I didn’t demand that you take their lives, Gisborne.”

Guy only sighed. “I killed them not to help you – I needed to make our mission safer.”

Robin permitted a small laugh to escape his lips. “You definitely wouldn’t have done that for me.”

“Of course not,” Guy muttered.

“Thank you, Guy,” Robin addressed his former enemy by his first name for the first time in many years. “I can see that you didn’t want to kill these men in cold blood, and I respect you for that.”

“You are welcome, Robin,” Guy replied in disbelief that Robin referred to him by his first name. It was the first time in many, many years when the two of them talked in such a personal manner.

Guy smiled at Robin feebly in response. He had no doubt that there would always be some discord between him and Robin, but at least there was no hatred and loathing between them. At times Guy felt that Robin liked having him around, among his men, and there was _a sense of camaraderie_ between them.

Carter, John, Will, and Djaq were taking off the uniforms of the dead guards. Only Robin, Guy, Much, and Roger would be disguising themselves: only the four of them could enter the tower unnoticed, whereas the others kept their attire and were supposed to create a distraction.

“We are already in the Queen’s Tower,” de Lacy stated. He sighed heavily, praying that there would be no surprises on the way to the chambers where, they assumed, the Queen Mother had been kept prisoner.

The fight of Robin Hood and his friends for the Queen Mother’s rescue was only beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan completed the mission of the utmost importance: they stole Prince John’s treasure – the chest of gold – from Bolebec Castle, the Earl of Buckingham’s estate. As many of you probably anticipated, the four of them had to face Vaisey and Buckingham. Of course, Vaisey had a trick up his sleeve: Buckingham and he appeared out of the blue and cornered Guy, Archer, and Allan, but Megan saved them. Megan used black pepper like Djaq did in the series. Guy and the others won this round of the game, but the battle with Vaisey is not over.
> 
> But why does Vaisey say that he always knows what Robin, Guy, and the others do?
> 
> Bolebec Castle did really exist. It was a castle in the village of Whitchurch, Buckinghamshire, England. Of course, it didn’t belong to the Earl of Buckingham. In this epic, the action takes place in the 1190s, and during this time the Earldom of Buckingham was vacant: it was first created in 1097 for Sir Walter Giffard, but it became extinct in 1164 with the death of the second earl. The title was created again in 1377 for Thomas of Woodstock, the youngest son of King Edward III.
> 
> I promised you that there would be more developments between Megan and Guy. Guy saved Megan’s life: he killed the Earl of Buckingham who was about to murder Megan. They were profoundly affected by Megan’s almost murder and their narrow escape with their lives, and Guy gave in to his passion. She didn’t resist at first and then pushed him away as she doesn’t believe that he can ever fall in love with her. However, Guy begins to understand many things about his feelings for Marian and Megan, but there is still some fog in his head. Guy may think that he kissed Meg in the heat of the moment, but it is not true.
> 
> Guy killed the Baron of Rotherham in a fair fight and the Earl of Buckingham to save Megan’s life. I consider Guy’s justified and necessary killings of the two Black Knights part of his redemption. Obviously, Guy is not Vaisey’s man anymore – he is his own man. I wouldn’t call Guy King Richard’s man, although Guy is loyal to the king. I hope you can see the depth of changes in Guy.
> 
> I hope you like the closeness between Guy and Archer. They are bonding as brothers. You can also see that there is no animosity between Guy and Robin and their relationship improved significantly, but I don’t think the two of them can ever be as close as Archer and Guy. There is too much bad blood between Robin and Guy; many things can be forgiven, but not forgotten. Thus, I want Guy to have a brotherly relationship with Archer. I am also enjoying writing a mature and wise side to Archer who was portrayed as a brash, pompous man and a brazen, shrewd knave in part 2 “Mysteries Unveiled.”
> 
> The battle for Pontefract Castle is a fictional event, and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine wasn’t imprisoned there during King Richard’s absence in England. However, Eleanor might have been imprisoned there during the reign of her second husband, King Henry II, when she was a captive queen. The description of Pontefract Castle and some other mentioned details are historically corrected.
> 
> Marian feels that she will have to do something very important for England, for the king, and for the people. She thinks she knows her own destiny. What can it be? Does it mean something?
> 
> I hope you liked the battle scene in this chapter. The Queen Mother’s rescue is only beginning, and there are some negative surprises from Guy and Robin’s enemies. It is canon compliant that Guy is a follower, not a leader like Robin, but he is going to have his moments of heroism in the next chapter and in the siege. I want to warn you that there is a tragedy in chapter 11 (nothing happens to Robin and Guy).


	11. A Trap in Pontefract

**Chapter 11**

**A Trap in Pontefract**

Robin, Guy, Much, and Roger de Lacy disguised themselves in the uniforms of Prince John’s guards. At Robin’s order, Little John dragged the bodies of the dead guards to the corner of the armory, his face torn between displeasure and disgust. Will, Carter, and de Lacy helped John while the others were waiting.

Then they exited the armory, and Roger de Lacy led them through the long hallway that connected the great hall with what they believed to be Queen Eleanor’s living quarters. In the end of the hallway, they mounted the steep staircase and get into the huge great hall. They were fortunate because there were no guards there, which caused Robin and de Lacy to narrow their eyes in suspicion. Eventually, they arrived in another hall, where they could see many portraits of the de Lacy family members and ancestors; the interior was luxurious and expensive, everything furnished and decorated with exquisite taste. They exited into another corridor and ascended the winding staircase.

Soon they were on the upper floor of the Queen’s Tower, close to the Queen Mother’s apartments. Robin, Guy, Roger, and the others hid in a large alcove in the corridor and watched. They saw several servants carrying silver trays full of food and various delicacies, realizing that they were correct in their assumptions that Queen Eleanor was indeed imprisoned in this tower. The guards dressed in Prince John’s colors stood at the end of the corridor and demanded that two maids stop and show them what they carried.

“What are we doing to do now, Robin?” Much asked, looking at his former master.

“Now we are going to save Queen Eleanor,” Robin replied. He smiled kindly at Much who shielded him with his body as they hid in the alcove. His best friend was overprotective of him since his resurrection.

"Robin," Roger de Lacy called, “we have to kill the guards because we don’t need witnesses. We can only spare the servants because they cannot fight; yet, they can be a trouble if they find other guards.”

“Yes. We cannot let any witnesses live,” Guy agreed, looking at Robin over his shoulder.

"But we cannot kill women," John protested, fixing Robin with a disapproving look.

 “We are not going to take their lives, John.” A sigh tumbled from Robin’s mouth, and he closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against the wall. “We will kill the guards and ambush two maids.”

"Will and I will do that," Djaq pledged, looking at Robin. “We are going to use the same powder again. Once we neutralize them, we will be looking for the Queen Mother.”

“I know where they are keeping her,” Roger announced, looking at the two maids who were being checked by the guards; everyone felt relief washing over them.

Pressing themselves to the walls as they had done before, Will and Djaq moved towards the end of the corridor. They were so cautious that nobody spotted them. They stopped, and then Djaq acted more quickly than a storm: she threw the powder in the faces of two guards who collapsed on the floor, gasping for air and coughing. Roger de Lacy then rushed to the end of the corridor and finished off these two guards. Meanwhile, Will and Djaq ambushed the maids and tied them up.

“We must remove the corpses,” Guy said as he stopped near Roger, looking down at the dead men.

“Yes.” Roger opened the door of the nearby room. “It is the study, and very few people come there.”

As everything was done, Roger de Lacy gave his instructions, “There must be many guards in the area adjacent to the Queen Mother’s chambers. Only four of us can go there.”

Robin nodded an affirmative. “Roger, Much, Guy, and I will go.”

“We will wait here,” Carter responded. His eyes flicked to Guy. “I hope you won’t fail us, Gisborne.”

Will, Djaq, and John nodded in agreement with Carter.

“If I fail, then we will all fail,” Guy grumbled, turning to Robin. “And I am not going to die today.”

Robin felt his palms begin to sweat, and wings of apprehension took flight in the pit of his stomach. He put on a show of optimism and chuckled. "Guy, we will win today. Great victory requires great risk.”

"Robin," Allan called in a troubled voice.

"What?" Robin glanced around. Then his features lit up with a cheeky smile as his gaze fell on five guards who appeared in the opposite part of the corridor. “Ah, I see! We have a little trouble here!” He unshouldered his bow and pulled a fistful of arrows from his quiver. “Lads, let’s have fun!”

“It will be easy, for there are no archers among them,” Guy said as he unsheathed his sword.

Suddenly, Sir Jasper of Ashton appeared at the end of the corridor; ten guards accompanied him. “Hood and Gisborne are here!” Jasper shrilled. “After them!”

“Try if you want!” Robin laughed as he shot the arrow that whizzed past Sir Jasper’s ear.

“I will deal with him, Robin,” Guy promised, advancing in Jasper’s direction.

“Good luck,” Robin wished as he took an arrow from Much’s hand and shot it.

“Capture Hood and kill Gisborne!” Jasper of Ashton ordered. He drew his sword and prepared to fight.

Guy, Roger, and the others changed into the battle. Robin released one arrow and then one more; only Much stayed at Robin’s side, looking out for the danger, his sword drawn. Robin’s arrows were flying in the air, landing in the chests and necks of his targets. Robin was killing the guards, he no longer thought of the lives he was taking: he had to kill for England, for his king, and for his queen.

As Guy and Jasper finally crossed their swords, the thought crossed Guy’s mind that he was trying to take down another Black Knight, who was highly favored by Prince John.

“You are a traitor, Gisborne,” Sir Jasper hissed as he parried Guy’s diagonal blow.

“I was a traitor,” Guy corrected, lunging at his opponent and swinging his sword in an overhead blow. “But I am no longer the man I was.”

Jasper blocked a blow. “You betrayed Prince John and Lord Vaisey. You are ungrateful, Gisborne.”

Guy deflected a blow and again, then yet again. “Bravo, Ashton! You are trying to get me enraged so as to make me lose control over the fight. It won’t work!”

Soon almost all of Jasper’s men lay wounded or dead. There were only three survivors, including Sir Jasper, and they were panting, sweating, and cursing, trying to make their escape from the corridor. Carter and Roger quickly overpowered those two guards and killed them, preventing their escape. Sir Jasper was still locked in the battle with Guy who was not going to let the enemy flee. The skirmish was almost over.

Guy finally managed to disarm Jasper and cornered him in the alcove. “You are finished, Ashton.” He pressed the blade to the man’s neck, smirking darkly.

Sir Jasper only laughed. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you, Gisborne.”

“Look out, Guy!” Guy heard Allan’s urgent voice.

Guy turned around in time and saw an arrow flying right at him. He had no time to move out of harm’s way. The arrow had been shot by one of the archers who had come to the corridor after the battle was over. It pierced his forearm, and Guy flinched in pain. Then another arrow whizzed through the air, and Guy’s attacker screamed. Temporarily distracted, Jasper was observing the scene in awe. Guy also watched that man die with an arrow wedged into his eye socket.

“Be careful, Gisborne!” Robin cried out and began to stalk towards Guy and Jasper.

Using the moment, Jasper kicked Guy in the stomach, and Guy doubled over, cursing aloud.

“You are a looser, Gisborne! See you soon!” A laughing Jasper ran down the corridor and darted away.

As the pain receded, Guy straightened and withdrew the arrow from his forearm. He was about to go after Jasper when Robin’s voice stopped him. “Leave him, Guy,” Robin said in a commanding voice. “He is trying to get out of the fortress. Robert and his men will capture him.”

“Fine.” Guy clutched his forearm that pained him.

Robin approached Guy and made an attempt to jest. “You could have been killed.”

Guy smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Robin. You saved my life.”

Robin grinned widely. “You are welcome. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Guy looked around, his eyes taking in the carnage. “It is already over.”

De Lacy stopped next to Guy. “I doubt that.” He sighed. “Jasper of Ashton ran in the direction of the secret staircase I was intending to use for our escape. I fear he knows where this staircase is.”

A short eerie silence stretched between them. Then Robin said, “You are right, Roger.”

Allan stood nearby, looking at Robin. “What are we going to do now, mates?”

“What Robin says,” Guy muttered.

“What Roger says,” Robin amended. “He is the master of the castle.”

Roger looked thoughtful as his mind worked hard. “There is another staircase which we can use to leave the Queen’s Tower. The presence chamber has an access to it.”

“Very good,” Robin whispered, his heart heavy with uncertainty.

“I am hungry,” Much complained. “I want to have a feast after we save the Queen Mother.”

Djaq smiled at the ever-hungry man. “Much, be patient. Soon you will have a lot of delicious food.”

Robin was so perturbed about their mission that he ignored Much’s ranting. Anger mixed with anxiety was clawing at his heart. “Lads, we must be more cautious now.” He automatically passed to Much his half-empty quiver, his hand nervously playing with the string of his bow. “There will be unpleasant surprises today, and we have to take risks.”

“For sure,” Guy assented.

De Lacy ran his eyes over his comrades. “Robin, Gisborne, Much, and I will go to the Queen Mother’s apartments. The others should stay here and watch,” he said, his green eyes hard, his expression fierce. “If you learn something new or see something strange, then you, Carter, will come and warn us.”

With wishes of good luck spoken by their friends, Roger, Robin, Much, and Guy headed to the Queen Mother’s chambers. Djaq, Will, and John retired to the same alcove where they had hidden before.

Meanwhile, Archer and Marian waited outside the tunnels. A presageful silence reigned in the room, interrupted only by the sound of burning torches. Archer began to talk about his adventures in the East. Marian listened to him in silence; towards the end of his long speech, she was on the point of interrupting him but desisted from doing that.

“I know you are not interested, Marian,” Archer stated, a touch of regret creeping into his voice.

Marian smiled apologetically. “I am sorry, but now I can think only about Robin, Guy, and our friends.”

He dipped his head in understanding. “I am also worried about them.”

“I am afraid of what Vaisey can do,” Marian voiced her fears. “Robin’s plan is excellent. This time, it is really a whole plan,” she said with a hearty smile. She used Robin’s new trademark expression: while they had lived in the woods for a few weeks, she had heard it from Robin a few times, and she remembered it. “But if Vaisey appears here and sets a trap for us, everything can happen.”

Archer released a sigh of frustration. “Vaisey must be very angry now because we stole the treasure the Black Knights planned to deliver to King Philippe.” His hand moved to the hilt of his scimitar, instinctively, as they spoke about the sheriff. “Now Vaisey must be desperate, and that makes him more dangerous.”

“I am sure that Vaisey wants to settle scores with Guy more than with Robin.”

“Vaisey said the same when we met him in Bolebec Castle.”

Suddenly, they heard the approaching footsteps and instantly lapsed into silence. Someone was walking very slowly, as if measuring every step. As the footsteps got closer, they realized that the intruder was descending the stairs, as if intending to go into the room where Archer and Marian were.

“Who the devil is that?” Archer snarled. “I thought we would be alone here.”

Marian shook her head in uncertainty. “I don’t know.”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Someone is coming.”

They heard rapid footsteps behind the door, and Archer unsheathed his sword. Then it was quiet for some time, as if the unknown intruder were anticipating something mysterious. Marian and Archer had waited two minutes before they heard the footsteps again, and the voices spoke loud enough to hear the words. The two men exchanged brief and awkward greetings, and they recognized Vaisey’s voice. Vaisey’s appearance was _a harbinger of trouble and probably even death_.

Vaisey’s voice was clearly discernible. “They must already be here,” Vaisey spoke slowly, his voice deep and loud, edged with unmasked anger.

“Hood and Gisborne were not seen here. I saw only Robert de Beaumont during the battle,” the second voice spoke; Archer and Marian didn’t recognize it.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah! Of course, Hood and Gizzy are here!” Vaisey delivered in his familiar sing-song tones. Marian could almost imagine how the evil man outstretched his arms, and her face screwed up in disgust. “ _Our trap will work_ , my dear Lord Sheridan! This time, there will be no frustration of our plans.”

Lord Sheridan laughed nastily. “They will be dead before they realize what happened.”

Vaisey laughed venomously. “This is great! Our little sweet Robin Red Breast and our large treacherous Gizzy will be caught like birds in a snare! We will make them fly today! A dark abyss is their fate!”

Vaisey and Sheridan continued talking, but their voices sounded far-away as they began to walk away. Archer and Marian exchanged uneasy glances, their hearts beating violently, their breathing labored as if they had been running for a long time. They heard the receding footsteps of the two vile conspirators.

Marian blanched to the whiteness of snow. Robin was in peril and could die! At that thought, a feeling of deep and intense despair wafted over her, and she trembled. Then she took her emotions under control, and her eyes lit up with steely determination. She spluttered, “I can't wait any longer! I have to go find Robin!” She paused, thinking that she had to mention Guy as well. “I have to find Guy! I cannot let Vaisey kill them!”

Archer made a step to Marian and glanced into her eyes. “I don’t want Robin, Guy, and anyone else dead or wounded. We must warn them that there is a trap somewhere in the castle and that Vaisey is here.”

“We must save them,” she declared resolutely. “And I have a plan.”

Archer gave a headshake. “What do you want to do?”

Her face was deadly serious. “Robin said that he would leave a trail for us. We will go into the dungeons and find Robin. I think we will figure out how to reach the Queen’s Tower.”

“Have you ever been here before?”

Marian reminisced, “Archer, I was here only once when Roger de Lacy celebrated his fourteenth birthday; Robin and my father took me with him here; I was a small girl back then. And, of course, I wasn’t in the dungeons.”

An anxious Archer briskly rubbed his face. “Marian, listen to me. I fear that at this very moment we can be fighting for the lives of Robin and Guy instead of rescuing Queen Eleanor. Robin will never leave this place without the Queen Mother, and, thus, we have to change your plan.”

“Robin will never leave Pontefract without the Queen Mother.” Robin would have gladly died for Queen Eleanor, his real mother, Marian mused. She worked hard to suppress the unspeakable fear and unbearable pain which the thought about Robin’s possible demise evoked in her heart.

“I know.” He paused for a moment, his brain working hard. “You will have to go to the Queen’s Tower alone and find Robin and inform him about Vaisey’s plans. I will go out and check what is going on in the courtyard and how many men Vaisey and Sheridan have within the castle walls.”

“I will do that,” she pronounced resolutely.

“Please be very careful, Marian,” Archer exhorted.

Marian grinned. “Don’t worry. I can defend myself very well.”

In a few minutes, Marian was already making her way through the tunnels, holding a torch and following Robin’s trail; Archer went to scout ahead in the fortress. There were only darkness and deathly stillness all around, and the sounds of her footsteps echoed in that stillness, sounding to her ears more ominous than agonized moans of the dying she had heard outside during the battle for Pontefract. She was terrified, but there was the firm determination in her heart to save both Robin and Guy.

Bracing herself against the onslaught of her turbulent emotions, Marian made her way through the tunnels, praying that she wouldn’t lose her way. Contrary to her expectations, it didn’t take her a lot of time to reach the end of the tunnel system: Robin had left a trail of small pieces of white cloth to guide her through the maze under the castle. Soon Marian was in the armory, located on the ground floor in the Queen’s Tower, through the secret door that de Lacy hadn’t closed on purpose in case Marian or Archer had to go into the dungeons. Her eyes wandering around, she sighed with relief that she was alone.

In the next moment, Sir Jasper of Ashton walked in. A large smile spread across his features as his eyes met Marian’s. “My dearest Lady Marian,” he mocked, bowing to her. “What a pleasant meeting!”

Marian’s face contorted in mad rage. She hated all the Black Knights with a festering hatred since the last regicide attempt in Acre. “I cannot say I am happy to see you, Sir Jasper.”

Jasper smiled gibingly. “Why are you so surprised? Not only Sir Roger de Lacy knows about the way to the Queen’s Tower through the underground tunnels.”

“That was a trap,” she deduced as she drew her sword.

Sir Jasper ripped his sword from the scabbard and attacked Marian. He lunged forward at her, but she adroitly blocked and rained diagonal blows on his chest. He deflected her blow and spun to the right, launching a blow at her arm, sniggering. Marian sidestepped and in turn brought her sword down on top of his, pinning it to the ground for a brief moment. Her surprised rival raised a brow, and then shoved his sword up. Releasing a cry of rage, Jasper swiped at Marian with his weapon, but she sidestepped again and retreated into the corner, her eyes glaring at him with every ounce of anger she had.

In a few moments, Jasper came at Marian again, more coldly furious but slightly more wary. He stabbed at her, and the blades intersected, the shriek of metal sickeningly loud in complete silence. Marian deflected a blow and riposted, catching his sword arm; Jasper howled with pain and fury. As she saw an opening in her opponent’s guard, she seized the opportunity to move away from the corner. As she stopped in the middle of the room, Jasper was already moving towards her. He attacked her again, and she parried with an economy of movement. Jasper thrust with his sword towards her chest, but she dodged.

Jasper sprang at Marian with a rampageous series of attacks, and a few times Marian barely managed to parry or evade his blows. Collecting all her strength, she swung her sword with a more ardor, in a variety of movements and blows, her mind recollecting every lesson of swordplay Robin had given her before his departure to Acre and while she had lived in the woods. Her sword was weaving lethal patterns as she blocked and parried and counterthrust. The fight was violent and intensive, and all that Marian could think of was that she had to find Robin and Guy in time.

The Black Knight was a skilled swordsman, but Marian was a good match for him after years of fighting against Vaisey and Gisborne as the Nightwatchman. In her mind, she also thanked Robin over and over again for the training he had given her because her initial skills with a sword acquired by her in her mock fights with her father wouldn’t have been enough to stand against Jasper in a fight. They both were fighting to kill: they could see the fierce resolve in each other’s eyes and in the way they traded powerful and desperate blows. Moreover, Marian knew that Jasper was entirely capable of hurting a woman.

“Haha!” Sir Jasper roared as he blocked her blow. “I never thought any woman can fight so well!” He was surprised by both her proficiency with a sword and her self-control.

Marian smiled slightly, advancing forward at her enemy. “There is the first time for everything.”

Jasper swung his sword at her neck, and she blocked the sword but not the strength. He knocked the sword from her hand, and she stumbled backwards, barely able to dodge from another blow in time, her heart beating so fast that it could explode in her chest. Jasper’s eyes flared, and he gave a shrilling cry of triumph, raising his sword, poised for the kill. Yet, he paused and stared at Marian without attacking her.

 “Lady Marian, you won’t leave this room alive,” Jasper told her, regret laced in his voice.

Marian discerned the regret in his voice, wondering whether it was real. Looking into his eyes fearlessly, she said coldly, “I bet you will murder me now. Do this – kill a weaponless woman.”

There was sadness in his eyes. “I don’t kill women, my lady. I like women, and I like to bed them, making them mew in pleasure like little kittens. But I am not fond of killing them in cold blood.” He sighed. ”Your case is exceptional. I cannot allow you to find Hood and Gisborne.”

Marian’s mind was racing with thoughts of how to overpower him, but then it was detoured as another of her keen senses kicked in – she was a woman and she could apply her charms to him. She gave him her most dazzling smile and murmured, “Then don’t kill me, Sir Jasper. Let me go.”

However, Jasper became cognizant of her tactics. “This tactic is not going to work, Lady Marian.”

Sighing with regret, Sir Jasper lifted his sword and stepped towards Marian, smiling apologetically. Looking into his eyes intrepidly, Marian spat in his face and then jostled him with her elbow with all her might. Jasper bellowed in rage and was about to slice at Marian’s head, but she ducked beneath the blade at the last moment. Marian grabbed her sword from the floor and directed a fierce blow at the Black Knight.

Sir Jasper went still, life fleeing his eyes. Marian shrank away from him, staring down at the man’s corpse. Mortal dread filled her heart at the sight of Jasper’s half-severed head, and it was difficult to believe that she had just killed him in such a brutal way. _Marian killed a man for the first time in her life!_ But there was no other way she could have saved her own life. She hadn’t even seen the direction of her blow – she had simply slashed at his neck because it was the most convenient way to dispatch him.

“My Lord! I killed him,” Marian murmured to herself, breathlessly.

For a moment, she froze, petrified in horror; the sword she was holding in her hand was dripping with blood. As she remembered Robin, Guy, and her friends, she leaned over Jasper and wiped the blade with his tunic; then she sheathed it and turned on her heels, hoping that she wasn’t too late.

§§§

Roger de Lacy was leading Robin, Guy, and Much to the most distant chambers in the Queen’s Tower, where he assumed to find Queen Eleanor. Roger said that this part of the Queen’s Tower was the most luxuriously furnished and decorated one; it seemed that Prince John ordered to treat his mother rather well. There were only several guards in the corridor leading to their destination, and they ambushed them. They paused near the large double doors, allowing Robin to enter first.

Robin opened the door and walked in, looking around. He was impressed by the grandeur and opulence in the chamber, which let him feel relieved that Prince John at least treated the Queen Mother better than King Henry had done. He paused at the doorway, with his companions behind him, and swept his eyes over the chamber, examining whitewashed walls decorated with lamps and paintings, as well as many gold and green tapestried couches and handsomely carved chairs which were placed on green and gold carpets. The chamber was illuminated only by several pale lamps that hung from the walls.

Robin’s gaze focused on several ladies sitting at the table next to the fireplace, and then he saw her – the famous and notorious Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. With a gracious movement of her long neck, Queen Eleanor raised her eyes from the embroidery and stared at Robin, her gaze impenetrable and mysterious. She smiled at Robin with a bright, sincere, and enchanting smile, and his heart pounded harder.

Robin gasped for air, and blood tingled in his veins as he locked his gaze with the queen’s. He felt that he was unable to move and speak, and only Guy’s push from the back pulled him out of his slumber. “Your Grace, we beg your pardon for intruding in your private chambers,” he said in a high, steady voice. He made a small bow to the queen. “I hope we are not unwelcome visitors.”

Robin felt his heart beating faster at the thought that he was so close to Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, who was not only his queen but also the woman who had an unbreakable blood connection to him. When he had been recovering in the Holy Land from his wound, he swore that he would protect King Richard and Queen Eleanor with his own life. _Now Robin stood in front of Eleanor!_

Robin was impressed with the Queen Mother’s majestic appearance. She wore a V-cut luxurious dark blue gown designed in the latest Aquitanian fashion, with golden and silver embroidery on the front, the sleeves trimmed with sable. Her long silver hair was arranged in a loose bun on top of her head. Despite her age, she didn’t lose her regalness and graciousness, the style of her gown revealing the elegant bones and slender curves which had made her the most beautiful woman in Christendom in her youth.

Queen Eleanor slowly rose to her feet, looking at Robin with the same radiant smile. “Robin of Locksley,” she pronounced the name in a silken voice. “I will always welcome you at my court and everywhere I am.”

Guy clapped Robin on the back. “Robin, go – just go.”

“Thank you,” Robin murmured as he made a step forward.

Interested in Robin’s reaction, Guy watched the younger man attentively, wondering what Robin felt as he faced the woman who had given birth to him. It was the first time when Guy saw Queen Eleanor so close. His heart trembled in fright mingled with fascination, feeling the same as he had felt during his long conversation with King Richard in Acre when he had confessed to his crimes and had been pardoned by the king. It seemed that both Richard and Eleanor had a similar impact on their subjects.

Queen Eleanor looked at Guy, but she didn’t recognize him, for she had never seen him before. And Guy wasn’t in the center of her world at the moment: she wanted to see only Robin, _her dear son_.

Taking a deep breath and holding it for quite a long moment, a nervous Robin strode towards the Queen Mother. He made a deep bow to the old lady as he stopped near the table, looking steadily into the Queen Mother’s eyes. Much, Roger, and Guy followed Robin, Guy being the last one of them.

Robin felt a gamut of emotions – amazement, fear, relief, and delight – flooding him, and it was difficult for him to maintain his expression neutral. “I hope that Your Grace is doing well in spite of the prolonged imprisonment. I am sorry that we were unable to come here and save your earlier.”

Queen Eleanor came to Robin, smiling and beaming with happiness, delight, and pride. She surveyed Robin from top to toe, lingering her gaze at Robin’s stomach, and something like concern flickered in her eyes. “Lord Huntingdon, I have already heard rumors about your survival, and I am glad to see you alive,” Eleanor continued with a blithesome smile on her face. “I sincerely hope you are feeling well.”

Robin smiled timidly. “I am as well as I can be, Your Grace.” He veered his gaze to Roger de Lacy who stood right behind him. “Your Grace, we will have more time to talk. Now we have to go.”

The Queen Mother nodded, her smile turning wry. “Sir Robin, we will follow you where you wish us to go.” Her gaze slid to de Lacy, whom she didn’t see since Roger’s departure to the Holy Land so long ago. “I am glad that you are here, Lord de Lacy. You have grown up into a fine young man.”

Roger de Lacy bowed to Queen Eleanor. “I am more than happy to see you, Your Grace.” He glanced at Robin. “Now I think we should leave. We don’t really have much time left.”

“Ladies, we should go!” Eleanor ordered her ladies-in-waiting who jumped to their feet and dropped their embroidery. “These brave and wonderful men have come to rescue us!”

Three ladies, each dressed in lovely gowns in the Aquitanian style, smiled and nodded; they surveyed the four men who came to save their mistress. They all knew that Robin of Locksley was the legendary Robin Hood, and Robin’s re-appearance after the dramatic events in Acre made them aflame with curiosity. As they were seasoned courtiers, they also knew Roger de Lacy who attracted the ladies’ attention as well. They also regarded Guy and Much with undeniable interest, and one of them winked at Guy.

They found Carter, Will, Djaq, Allan, and Little John waiting for them in the same corridor. They all, excluding Carter, were somewhat embarrassed to see Queen Eleanor, bowing to the royal lady deeply. Eleanor knew Carter and gave him a bright smile; John’s large frame roused her interest, and she smiled at him; she was also amused to see the young Saracen among them, but she asked nothing. It was Eleanor’s friendliness and the warmth of her smile that helped everyone relax rather quickly.

As they had decided to use a different staircase to get out of the Queen’s Tower, Roger de Lacy led them to the presence chamber located in the opposite part of the tower. They hastened through corridor after corridor, and there were no guards around them, as if the Queen Mother’s prison hadn’t been guarded at all. The lack of heavy guard seemed extremely suspicious to Robin, Guy, and the others.

Robin requested that they pick up the pace. They knew that they had to leave the Queen’s Tower as soon as possible, hoping that Robert de Beaumont’s people would be able to secure a safe passage out of the fortress for them; horses and a squad for escort were already waiting for them in a nearby forest. Finally, they got to the destination and stopped, waiting for de Lacy’s instructions.

“I don’t like this silence,” Guy commented, looking around.

“Me neither,” Robin agreed. His gaze slid to Roger. “Do we really need to use only this staircase?”

Roger nodded. ”There is no other option. There is a risk that Sir Jasper knows about the secret staircase.” He smiled slowly, but there was an alarm in his smile. “There can be many guards stationed there.”

“Yet, my dearest ones, we should risk going there,” Queen Eleanor surmised, her visage brave.

Roger de Lacy entered the room with access to this staircase. They crossed the chamber and paused near the door with access to the stairs. De Lacy opened it and peered out. The sun was high in the sky, bursting from behind the clouds, and the steep stone staircase sparkled in its bright, warm rays. To their utter surprise, there were still sounds of the battle outside: the clang of metal upon metal and distant war cries, and the air was filled with danger.

Robin mused aloud, “The battle is not over yet, but we should go down and then decide what to do.” A lingering disquiet continued plaguing him like a festering sore.

Roger gave a nod. “There is no other way. We have to go down the stairs.”

Guy stood with a perplexed face, looking at Robin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Robin answered shortly.

Queen Eleanor nodded at Roger and Robin, and then at her ladies, signaling that she agreed with the course of action. Roger stepped onto the top of the stairs; Robin, Much, and Guy followed him. Carter was about to escort the queen to the staircase, but Marian’s desperate voice stopped them.

“Vaisey and Sheridan are here! There is a trap somewhere here!” Marian crossed the chamber in a few strides, running as fast as her legs carried her; then she stopped in her tracks next to Robin and Guy. She didn’t stop even to curtsey to Queen Eleanor, for they didn’t have time for formalities now.

Everyone stared at Marian in amazement that was quickly supplanted by horror. Marian looked as if she were trampled by hundred horses, and there were large stains of dried blood on her gown.

A look of anxiety flashed across Robin’s face. “Marian, what happened?”

“Are you sure that Vaisey is here?” Guy asked, his expression deeply troubled.

A short-of-breath Marian reported, “We overheard Vaisey’s conversation with Sheridan. There is a trap somewhere here.” Her eyes darted between Robin and Guy. “I am so glad that you are all alive!”

Guy eyed Marian, his eyes flashing with alarm at the sight of the blood on her gown. “Are you hurt?”

“It is not my blood. I will tell you later,” she replied abruptly.

“Where is Archer?” Robin inquired.

Marian sighed. “He went to conduct reconnaissance outside.”

“I would prefer to have him here,” Robin remarked.

“We should leave. We are running out of time,” Roger urged them to action.

Roger, Robin, Guy, and Marian began to descend the stairs, but the familiar voice made them pause.

A vicious laugh boomed throughout the room and the enclosed space. "Blah-di-blah-di-blah! It seems that the illustrious Robin Hood and the great Sheriff Vaisey of Nottingham both came back from the dead,” Vaisey promulgated in sing-song tones. He laughed nastily. “I have heard that Hood survived the Holy Land, but it was difficult to believe that it was true. I wanted to see you, Hood, with my own eyes.”

They raised their eyes to Vaisey who stood near the battlement, at the top of the Queen’s Tower. A sneering Vaisey was holding a Saracen recurved bow, targeting Robin.

Robin glared savagely at Vaisey, the man whom he hated the most among all living creatures. His mind replayed the scene of his own death in Imuiz, and a storm of tumultuous emotions churned in his chest. His jaw hardened, and a bloom of hatred blossomed in his heart, hot and inextinguishable. His mind conjured pictures of Vaisey’s death many times since his awakening in Acre. If Vaisey wasn’t standing at the top of the tower, where Robin couldn’t reach him, he would have killed his sworn enemy straight away.

Guy clenched his fists into tight balls, glaring at his former master murderously, with hate-filled eyes. Visions of the years he had served Vaisey hurtled through his mind, and deep-rooted abhorrence snatched his breath away. A wave of inexpiable hatred surged through him, threatening to consume him in its heat; his face was congested with vehement rage. The darkening of Vaisey’s eyes as they eyes met told him that his feelings were reciprocated. Guy desired only one thing – to plunge his sword into Vaisey’s chest.

“Hood,” Vaisey hissed like a rattlesnake. He hated Robin – the man who had thwarted so many of his plans and had put him in the situation when he had had the fallout with Prince John. His eyes were ebony with rage, and they remained locked with Robin’s for several long, expectant moments.

“Vaisey,” Robin articulated after a pause, his eyes full of hate. “I knew that I would meet you again.”

Much put a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “No, Robin. Stay here.”

Marian felt a thump in her breast, as if her heart had ceased beating. “My God,” she muttered to herself.

Vaisey scoffed, his eyes fixed at Robin. “Hood, I don’t know how you survived your seemingly mortal wound, but now it is not important at all. This ends here.” He laughed as his gaze slid to Roger, Guy, and Marian. "My friends, nobody is going anywhere. Our acquaintance is nearing its end.”

“I expected that you would appear here,” Guy spoke, locking his gaze with Vaisey’s.

Vaisey’s mouth compressed in a cruel line. "Gisborne, we meet again, my boy! Shame on you, Gizzy! You are again trapped by me! You are absolutely incompetent and utterly worthless!”

“You don’t know how much I want you dead,” Guy hissed between gritted teeth.

Vaisey took an aim at Guy. “I want you dead more, Gizzy.” Then he again targeted Robin. “It is so sweet and so charming to see all of you today!”

“Not sweet at all,” Much barked.

Vaisey sniggered, his gaze sliding to Marian. “My leper friend, how are you doing? Didn’t you sicken with leprosy while being held prisoner in the Tower? Were you missing your faux husband, Gizzy, and your former lover, Hood? If lepers are utterly alone, they withdraw into their innermost self, which is a way of bitter suffering!” He snickered. “You must have suffered a lot! You must have been so lonely in the Tower, without a man to warm you up! Oh, wait: you have never been with a man because Gizzy and Hood failed to bend you to their will. You have never had a bloody nose and bruises all over you, like a leper must have!”

“Watch your tongue, you damned scum,” Guy spat.

Robin remained quiet, his gaze teetering on the line of hatred and caution. Despite being on the top of the tower, not in the chamber, Vaisey spoke so loudly that Queen Eleanor and her ladies heard every word. Eleanor wrinkled her nose in repugnance, and her ladies’ mouths rounded in a silent ‘Oh’. The others were silent.

“You are revolting,” Much put in, grimacing in disgust.

Marian fought to regain an even demeanor and spoke. “Vaisey, you are the last man in the world whom I can miss. You are simply silly if you think that your trenchant comments may unsettle me.”

Vaisey smiled fiendishly. “My leper, you have teeth and a spirit! You have never been quiet and biddable! It is a pity that today you won’t be saved by Robin Hood and _his lackey_ , Guy of Gisborne.” Laughing, he glanced between Robin and Guy. “My expectations of your deaths are wrought to the highest pitch.”

Although she couldn’t see him, Eleanor addressed Vaisey, “Lord Vaisey, you have committed heinous crimes against Richard and England. Are you ever going to stop?” Her voice was edged with arctic disdain.

Vaisey laughed. “It is so good to meet you here, Your Grace. It is such a pity that you are still inside the chamber, and I cannot see you.” He ran his eyes over the four people trapped by him on the top of the stairs. “I know you can hear me as well as I can hear you, Your Grace. I have to disappoint you that you will have to stay in your lonely prison, and your rescuers will be dead soon.”

“Are you always so despicable, Lord Vaisey?” Eleanor made a verbal riposte.

Carter took a step to the Queen Mother; he gently put a hand on her shoulder, hoping that she would retreat back to the chamber – it was too dangerous for her to be quite close to the staircase. Eleanor understood the sign and stepped back, then was immediately surrounded by John, Allan, Will, and Djaq.

“I am just serving Prince John,” Vaisey responded, smiling noxiously.

“Vaisey,” Robin addressed the evil man, “what do you want to achieve even if you kill us now? You cannot run away because the battle will be won by the king’s men, and you will be detained.”

"No, you are wrong, my friend Robin,” Vaisey quirked. “The battle is still continuing because the Earl of Spenser and the Earl of Durham arrived in Pontefract with their soldiers after you had gone to the tunnels.”

Roger attempted to dash Vaisey's hopes. “Our men are Crusaders whose skills were honed in battles in Outremer! We will win, even if it takes us more time to crush the traitors!”

“Lord de Lacy, my hellish holy warrior,” Vaisey mocked. “I see you were a good guide for your friends and succeeded in getting them here _almost_ undetected.”

Roger cast a contemptuous glare at Vaisey. “You are finished, Vaisey.”

Vaisey’s arrogant face showed that he was enjoying the moment. “You were not invisible, my friends! Sir Jasper used a diversion to lure you away from the secret staircase by hinting you that we know its location.” He cackled with laughter. “I _always know_ where my birds are at the moment.”

Robin’s face was growing more animated with hate. “You cannot be alone here, Vaisey,” his metallic voice resonated. “What are you planning?”

Vaisey spelled out, “Hood, death didn’t rob you of your shrewd mind.”

At all once, everyone heard the sounds of impending footsteps in the corridor. It sounded as if a small army was gathering outside the chamber. The door flung open, and Lord Walter Sheridan burst into the room, his expression smug and satisfied; Blamire and at least ten guards stood behind him.

“Lord Vaisey, we have come,” Lord Sheridan announced cheerfully.

Vaisey laughed as he looked at Sheridan while still aiming at Robin’s chest. "This is the happiest day! I am so enthused about this splendid day!" His poisonous smile broadened. “I have caught my birds!”

Sheridan dropped the thin veil of civility and affirmed with a sinister sneer, “The trap has a ghastly perfection.”

“Surround and protect Queen Eleanor!” Robin shouted. His hand flew to the hilt of his sheathed scimitar, but he could only give a command because Vaisey was still aiming at him from the bow.

§§§

Sheridan and his men attacked Robin’s friends, and the battle in the presence chamber unfolded.

Carter, Will, Allan, and Djaq unsheathed their swords and charged into the battle. Carter launched an assault on Sheridan, trying to disarm the traitor. Allan, Will, and Djaq were locked with the combat with the guards. Roger stood near the doorway, looking at Robin and silently asking permission to leave him and fight for the queen; at Robin’s nod, he drew his scimitar and attacked the soldiers.

John incapacitated several men with one stroke of his staff before they could surround and isolate the Queen Mother. Looking at Eleanor, John pointed in the direction of the corner of the room, signaling that they had to find refuge there for their protection. Screaming in horror, the queen’s ladies retreated into the corner. Eleanor froze for a moment, staring at Robin, but John almost pulled her from there to the corner.

A storm of arrows apprised them of Archer’s arrival; he had hurried to come to the Queen’s Tower at the realization that there was a trap on the stairs that Robin and his comrades were going to use. His bow twanged as he shot arrows one by one at the guards. When he was out of arrows, he unsheathed his scimitar and his short curved Saracen sword, and then charged into the battle.

“The battle is almost over! We are winning!” Archer shouted, thinking that he had to notify his friends of his findings during the reconnaissance.

Robin, Guy, Marian, and Much were still standing on the top of the stairs, outside of the chamber. They couldn’t fight because Vaisey was targeting them from his bow.

“Go down the stairs, Hood,” Vaisey ordered, his eyes glittering with malice. His gaze focused on Guy. “Gizzy, you will follow Hood, together with your little leper lover, a paradigm of virtue and purity.”

“Stop! Stop right now!” Robin warned before anyone began to descend. “Don’t go there! It must be a trap!” He felt with his skin that something was wrong with the staircase or outside.

Much arched a brow. “Robin?”

“Wait,” Robin forestalled.

“We are better to stop here,” Marian agreed.

Guy flicked his gaze to Vaisey, his eyes aflame with anger. “What trap do you have, Vaisey? Are you going to kill us when we will be going down the stairs?”

Vaisey scoffed. “Gisborne, you will always be an idiot! Not everything is simple!”

“There must be something wrong with the staircase,” Robin agreed with Guy’s conclusion.

Vaisey broke into a laugh. “My sweet Hoodie, you have always been a quick-witted lad, in contrast to my former servant, my dear feather-brained Gizzy,” he declared. He turned his gaze to Marian, shifting the aim to her chest. “Now you will all go down the stairs. Or I will kill your leper!”

“No,” Marian breathed, blanching.

Much sighed heavily. “Oh, no. Not this again.”

“Let Marian go!” Guy roared.

“Don’t do this, Vaisey,” Robin admonished, trying to keep his tone steady.

Vaisey sneered, looking down at his victims. “My leper friend, don’t you feel honored to be killed from the same bow I used to shoot the king in Acre? You will have such a glorious death!”

Marian spat, “Lord Vaisey, you cannot intimidate us with your cheap humor.”

"You won’t hurt Marian!” Robin yelled.

“Vaisey, don’t you dare harm Marian if you want to settle scores with me.” Guy shifted nervously beside Much; he regretted that it was Robin, not him, who stood near Marian.

“I fear this bastard won’t react,” Much assumed.

The answer was the sound of Vaisey’s raucous laughter which made everyone cringe. “La di da di da! I am tired and cannot wait longer,” Vaisey continued, piercing them with a menacing glare. “I will show you that my aim is not as bad as you think.” He had to impel Robin and Guy to descend the stairs, and he planned to do that by wounding Marian. He fired an arrow.

“Marian!” Guy bellowed as he saw the arrow flying directly at Marian. “Down! Down!” He tried to get to her, but he was too far from her and the speed of the flying arrow was too high.

As he was closer to Marian than Guy, Robin made up his mind. He would sacrifice himself for Marian. “No!” he shrilled desperately. He made a step to Marian and shielded her from the arrow with his own body.

“Robin! No!” Much shrieked as he stepped forward and stopped in his tracks before Robin and Marian. In the next moment, the arrow struck Much in the chest, and he howled with pain. He staggered backwards and fell to the floor with a loud thud, the momentum knocking the air out of his lungs.

In the corner of the chamber, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine watched the scene with frightened eyes; despite her current location, the staircase was in her sight. “Robin!” she cried out as panic clawed through her. “Help Robin!” She was in a state of euphoria since Sheridan had told her about Robin’s survival and triumphal appearance in the Tower of London, thanking God for his life. She couldn’t lose her Robin now.

Little John put a firm hand on the Queen Mother’s shoulder. “Your Grace, please stay here.” As Eleanor made an attempt to get to Robin, John had to hold the woman back.

Vaisey released another arrow, but he missed. Yet, he was laughing maliciously because he had a trump card up his sleeve. He didn’t care for Much whom he compared to a loyal but annoying lapdog, like he wanted Gisborne to be. And if his plans again failed, he would escape and then set a new trap.

With tremendous agility and quickness, Robin stepped aside, so he didn’t tumble to the stone floor along with Much, while Guy caught Marian in his arms and pushed her away from Robin and Much.

Robin felt pinned to the floor with shock as his gaze fell on Much who lay moaning on the floor, Vaisey’s arrow protruding out of his chest. “Much,” a growl ripped from his throat.

“Robin is safe. Much was wounded!” Guy shouted. He glanced at Much, then at Robin, and then at Queen Eleanor. Understanding what the lady felt now, he offered her as much comfort as he could – another nod to re-assure her that Robin was unscathed.

Eleanor’s gaze locked with Guy, and she rewarded him with a faint smile of gratitude. But her smile was brief, and then she commanded, “Get this injured man from the stairs to the room!”

“Oh, my Lord! Not him!” Marian stared at Much in horror.

“He saved your lives,” Guy said, looking at her.

“Make an explosion!” Vaisey screeched. “Now! Right now!”

Robin looked absent-minded, having no clue as to what else Vaisey had on his mind.

Suddenly, there was a loud, powerful boom somewhere down, as if there were a powerful explosion at the very foot of the staircase. Robin realized what Vaisey’s diabolical plan was: the evil man planned to destroy the stairs when Robin, Guy, and Marian would be going down.

Robin didn’t know that Vaisey had chosen to get rid of him in the way that could look like an accident, and, hence, Prince John couldn’t be suspected of his murder then. Robin and Guy were supposed to perish at the moment when the stone constructions crashed down after a series of explosions. In this case, their deaths would be considered accidental: old stairs were dangerous and were in need of major overhaul, and, therefore, they could crumble under the feet of those who used them.

“Get away from here!” Robin shouted. “Get away!” He was awash in relief as Guy dragged Marian back to the chamber. Roger moved Much’s body from the staircase to the room.

Vaisey laughed with a maniacal laugh. “How do you like my last gift to you, my friends?”

When Marian was out of danger, Guy turned to face Robin. “Robin, come here!”

Suddenly, another powerful explosion followed. The old stones began to crumble as if the stairs were a house of cards.

“Robin!” Guy called in a shaken voice. “Robin!”

The staircase came crashing to the ground, and now Robin was hanging over a lethal abyss, only two hands keeping him from falling. His heart pounding at double its normal rate, Guy rushed to Robin.  

Watching her son’s possible end, Eleanor of Aquitaine was unable to control her emotions and screamed in shock, her face turning whiter than hoarfrost. A terrified Marian stared open-mouthed at the horrific picture in front of her eyes. Screams of horror filled the air. Time slowed, and the world condensed into one agonizing inhalation — a brief moment of anticipation of Robin Hood’s death.

Vaisey laughed watching Robin dangle over a dark abyss. “Bye-bye, my sweet friend Robin! This time, I am more conniving and smarter than you, Hood! The Byzantine fire can make wonders!”

Robin looked down, at the remnants of what used to be the staircase; his head was spinning. He tried to raise himself up, but his hands were weakening, every muscle of his body tense.

Guy dropped to his knees and started trying to keep Robin from falling. “Robin, I will get you from there!”

With a great deal of effort, Guy finally managed to lift Robin to safety. He was stunned how light Robin was. Obviously, Robin had lost much weight during his sickness and convalescence, but the hero was even lighter than he looked, which eased Guy’s task to pull Robin out of danger.

Robin and Guy couldn’t see Vaisey’s furious face. “Damn you, Hood,” he cursed. “I will kill you whatever it takes.” He planned to escape while he still had time and the king’s men were fighting with the prince’s soldiers. Then he heard a whistle and turned around, his gaze locking with Sheridan’s.

“We have to leave while we have time,” Sheridan claimed. “We have lost today. I left the reception room when I realized that they would win; all my men are dead.”

“Yes, we must go,” Vaisey replied, walking to Sheridan. Now they had to leave the Queen’s Tower.

Inside the chamber, Robin lay on the stone floor next to Guy. He was trying to catch his breath, his heart thumping like a hammer inside him. “Thank you, Guy,” he whispered, gazing into the other man’s eyes.

There was a chuckle from Guy. “You are welcome, Robin.”

Robin leaped to his feet, his movements awkward and slow as his scar throbbed in pain. He examined the chamber, his heart sinking into his throat. The floor was littered with the dead; the battle was over.

Robin looked at Queen Eleanor and her ladies-in-waiting who stood huddled in the corner, staring at Robin with perturbed eyes. He scanned the Queen Mother who looked unscratched. Realizing that Eleanor’s ladies were also unharmed, he gazed away. He saw his friends standing in a circle around someone who rested on the floor, and the sight of a wounded Much iced his blood.

Robin made a step towards Much, and his friends – everyone, except for Marian – stepped aside. Much was pale like a ghost, his feverishly glowing eyes looking intently at Robin, as if begging to come to him. The shaft protruded out of his friend’s chest, but it seemed to Robin that the arrow hadn’t pierced Much’s heart. Nascent hope was kindled in his heart and soul; maybe there still was a chance that Much would survive.

Robin approached Djaq and asked, “Can you do something for Much?”

Djaq shook her head, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “The arrow pierced his lung. The irreparable damage was caused, and there is nothing that can stop the substantial internal bleeding.” She raised her hand to wipe the tear. “I am sorry, Robin.”

Robin frowned in distress. “You said the same when I was dying.”

Djaq cast her gaze down at Much; then she looked back at Robin. “You must have died, but you survived because it was God’s will,” she said softly. "Only a miracle can save Much, and it is not my forte."

“I understand.” A resigned Robin sighed; he saw Much close his eyes.

“Robin, hurry. There is little time left.” Djaq’s voice was failing her, her expression sorrowful. “Don’t remove the arrow from Much's chest. If you do this, his lung will collapse, and he will die right away.  But if you leave the arrow there, his lung will fill with blood, and he will still die, but not as soon.”

Robin came to Much and knelt by his friend. His features morphed into a sad smile as he placed a hand on his friend’s forehead; Much’s eyes were shut tightly. “My dear friend,” he whispered, and his heart skipped a beat. “My Much.” His voice was caressing, melodic, and tender, as if he were singing a lullaby.

The eyes of the dying man fluttered open. “Robin, you are here,” Much began, smiling slightly.

“My best friend,” Robin whispered an endearment.

"The fight is over," Much rasped, gasping for breath.

“You saved me and Marian,” Robin murmured.

Marian knelt by Much and took his hand in hers. “You shouldn’t have done that, Much.”

Much struggled for breath, his face contorted in pain. “I did what I wanted to do. Today is a good day to die. I saved you from Vaisey, and nothing else matters.”

Marian and Robin were shocked beyond measure; pain overwhelmed them. Much took a deep, wheezing breath, and then began to cough up with blood, frothy and bright red, indicating how severe his injury was.

Tears sprang into Marian’s eyes, and she blinked them away. “Thank you, Much.”

Robin brushed away a few strands of blonde hair from Much’s forehead. “I need you, my friend.”

“It is over for me. But you are Robin Hood, and the world needs you. And I couldn’t let anyone harm Marian.” Much was almost gasping for breath after his long speech.

Marian squeezed Much’s hand. “Oh, Much.”

Robin planted a tender kiss on Much’s forehead. “I love you, Much,” he murmured, looking into Much’s eyes. “You are my best and most loyal friend. You are a better man than I can ever be.”

Much smiled heartily. "Robin, I love you the most in the world,” he said hoarsely. As the pain in his chest was too great, it was difficult to speak. “You are everything to me. Nobody can love you as much as I do.”

Robin sighed deeply, and a fat tear rolled down his cheek. He knew that Much’s words were true, and he couldn’t object. “I know, Much. I know.”

Marian looked between Much and Robin with large eyes full of tears, but she remained quiet.

“Please take care of Eve. She is with child,” Much murmured. Tears came to his eyes at the thought that he would never see the birth of his baby. “And tell Eve that I love her.”

Robin and Marian exchanged astounded glances, but then looked at Much.

“Much, we will protect Eve,” Marian avouched.

“We will take care of Eve and the babe,” Robin promised. “I will love your child as my own.”

“Now nobody will annoy and irritate you, Robin,” Much said in a trembling voice, with a kind smile on his face. “And nobody will ever cook for you better than I did.”

Robin swallowed a sob. “Much, I will never forget you.”

“Robin,” Much whispered, and a small smile curved his lips. He turned his head and stared into space as death was cradling him into its embrace. “Eve,” he murmured.

“I am here, Much,” Robin said in a shaky voice. “I am with you.”

Marian took some comfort in the fact that Robin was near Much. “Sweet dreams, my friend,” she crooned, knowing that Much was thinking only of Robin and Eve in his last moments.

“Robin,” Much choked out the name of his most beloved friend. A narrow trickle of blood ran out of the corner of his mouth. His chest heaved with his last agonizing breath, and life fled him. An imprint of death was etched into every line of his face, but there was a light smile on his face.

Djaq walked to Much to check whether he was really dead to avoid the situation like Robin’s in Imuiz.

A lugubrious silence reigned in the chamber for a few minutes as they waited for Djaq’s verdict. Eventually, a nod was given: Much was really dead, killed by the fiend who had failed to kill Robin but whose guileful schemes had taken the life of Robin’s best friend. Yet, Much’s death wasn’t useless: he had willingly sacrificed himself to save his childhood friends, and that made him content with his death.

Distraught Robin and Marian stared at each other as a pall of grief shrouded them. His heart was writhing in agony, but Robin didn’t cry, although his eyes were bright with unshed tears. Marian dissolved into tears, her body racked with sobs; she wanted to hug Robin but was sure that he would push her away. The world seemed to be collapsing around them, and grief permeated the air.

Realized that Robin was on the verge of a breakdown, Carter moved towards his friend. “Robin, you are not alone,” he assured the heartbroken man. His hand landed on Robin’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly in a gesture of comfort, but Robin didn’t see Carter, staring at Much’s corpse.

A feeling of visceral hatred ignited in Robin’s heart. Robin slowly rose to his feet; his face was imbued with unrestrained rage, the sanguineous glint in his eyes. “I will make Vaisey pay,” he vowed.

Marian gritted her teeth. “He must pay,” she said in a sibilant voice.

Robin took the sheathed scimitar that hung at Much’s waist; it was his old scimitar which he had used for a few years and with which Vaisey had stabbed him in Acre. Much’s bow – Robin’s old Saracen bow – lay on the floor near his corpse, and Robin grabbed it. He turned to Marian and handed to her the weapons. As she took them, Marian blinked in bewilderment, her eyes flicking between Robin’s face and the weapons.

“Take them, Marian,” Robin offered in a soft and nearly lifeless voice.

Her tearful eyes widened in pained astonishment. ”Don’t you want to keep these weapons, Robin?” She remembered that Much had taken Robin’s scimitar and Saracen bow in Acre after Robin’s supposed death.

Robin shook his head, anguish suffusing his features. “I don’t need these two pieces of steel. Much will always be in my heart.” He tore his gaze from Marian and gazed at the dead friend. “Marian, it is impossible to find such weapons in England. You should keep them,” he continued in a hollow voice.

Marian nodded. “Thank you, Robin.” She liked Robin’s scimitar, a light and convenient weapon that allowed her to try a principally new fighting style. She was also pleased that she would now have Robin’s old bow, for a recurved bow permitted to shoot with a better accuracy than a longbow.

In a few moments, Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, appeared at the doorway. He was still heavily armed, holding his helmet in his right hand. “We have won the battle,” he announced vivaciously. “Vaisey, Sheridan, Spenser, and Durham fled, but our men are pursuing them. Ashton is dead.” As his gaze embraced the room, he noticed things he hadn't before – Much’s body in the middle and Robin and Marian sitting near him. “Oh God,” was all he could say, his voice laced with notes of sorrow.

Questions circled Robin's mind. How did Vaisey learn about their plan to sneak into Pontefract Castle through the tunnel system? How could Vaisey be aware of their escape route from the Queen's Tower and the fortress? The realization struck him like a blow more powerful than anything else: Vaisey could know all this information only if there was a traitor among the king's men. He couldn't believe that one of his friends had betrayed him, but there no other explanation for today's unexpected happenings.

Robin turned to Roger de Lacy. He felt his blood run cold as he gazed into Roger's eyes. "Roger, this castle belongs to the de Lacy family. You know every corner here," he hissed.

Realizing what Robin implied, Roger almost shrank away from him. "Don't say these things, Robin. I would have never betrayed King Richard, England, and you!"

Allan's mind was blank with an unnameable fear. "Robin, I am loyal to the king and you! I would have never–" There was a nervous tremor in his voice that came to a halt.

"Robin, I would have never gulled you into trusting me," Guy spoke in a nervous voice.

"Robin," Marian called. As he turned to her, she continued, "You are not thinking straight. Deep grief breeds excess of emotions and confusion," she said judiciously.

Robin averted his eyes from Marian, paying no regard to her words. "War for the throne breeds traitors." He roved his eyes over the king's mind. "Too many traitors."

Carter, Archer, Little John, Will, and Djaq remained as deadly quiet as a temple at prayer. Queen Eleanor and her ladies patiently waited.

"Robin, there must be an explanation for–" Robert was interrupted.

An incensed Robin promulgated, "If I learn that one of you betrayed King Richard and me, I myself will kill you!" He glanced at the dead Much and then stared at Roger. "Much's death is on the conscience of this wretched traitor." Then he swiveled and stormed out without a backward glance.

After Robin's departure, there was a lethal silence in the chamber. Much's tragic and sacrificial death cast a gloom over everyone. The air was vibrating with a despondent current that was eroding their hearts. The Queen Mother was safe, and the battle was over for today, but the success came at a high price.

§§§

The warm rays of the June sun illuminated the towers of the palace of the Counts of Poitou, which was the favorite residence of Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. The weather was warm, and there was no wind. At this time of the year, the land of Aquitaine overflowed with an abundance of plants, trees, and fruits of every kind. The green forests were alive with the songs of twittering birds and with the sounds of nature's music.

The sun had already risen, but Robin still slept in a large, luxurious bed in his chamber; upon his arrival at court, he was lodged in the Maubergeonne Tower, where the ducal apartments and luxurious chambers for nobles in the highest favor were located. Robin's sleep wasn't peaceful at all as he was tormented by nightmares of death and war. In one of the many dreams he had during this night, he saw Much and himself surrounded by a squad of Saracens near the walls of Acre. In another dream, Robin failed to save Much: by the time he reached Much, his friend had already been stabbed in the chest and lay bleeding to death.

Robin awoke with a loud cry and in a cold sweat. He pulled himself into a sitting position in the bed, staring into space with pain-filled eyes. He blinked as if coming out of a fog, and swept his eyes over the bedroom, shaking off sleep and rousing himself to meet a new day.

His mind centered on the tragedy with Much, and pain welled up inside him, as if daggers were piercing through his heart. Much was buried in Sherwood, and there was no chance that his best friend would come back from the dead. Robin's grief was like a rock inside him, as hard as granite and as endless as a sky. Much's farewell words resonated inside his head, echoing the wild beat of his anguished heart. Robin's entire world was mired in a cloud of hurt and sadness, and the purpose of his life was inconceivable. Without the purpose, Robin was like an abandoned ship drifting on a tide without any destination.

His mind floated to the events of the past few weeks. After they had saved the Queen Mother, they had made only a brief stop in Sherwood on the way to Dover with the only purpose to bury Much on the hill overlooking Locksley. Eleanor had been escorted by Roger de Lacy and Robert de Beaumont directly to Dover while Robin and his friends had buried _the hero of Pontefract_ , as Much was called. Robin’s life was in danger, and he couldn’t have gone to Northampton to Eve in order to notify her about Much’s sacrifice.

After Much’s burial, Robin, Guy, Carter, Marian, Archer, and Allan had departed to Dover, joining Queen Eleanor and Robin’s other friends. John, Will, Djaq, and Tuck had stayed in Sherwood to take care of the people in Robin Hood’s name. Robin had instructed Allan to take Rebecca, Maggie, and Kate to the small village in Northampton where Eve and Annie had served at Lady Glasson’s manor. The mission to deliver the news of Much’s death had fallen to Allan, which had made Robin feel even guiltier. Allan had followed Robin and the others to Aquitaine only after delivering Robin’s message to a disconsolate and pregnant Eve and after ascertaining that Kate and her relatives had been comfortably settled in Northampton.

In order to avoid being detected by one of the spies of Prince John or King Philippe, Queen Eleanor and her ladies-in-waiting had traveled in the disguise of wealthy merchant women. Eleanor and her ladies had sacrificed all their jewels for Robin Hood’s cause, giving them to Little John who had pledged to distribute them to the poor. The others had been also disguised either as merchants or as servants.

The journey from England to Aquitaine had been long and arduous. Everyone was wrapped in a leaden fog of grief since Much’s heroic death. During their journey, Robin had withdrawn into himself, preferring to grieve over the loss of Much in solitude. Once Marian and Carter had tried to talk to Robin, but Robin had bristled in anger and barked that solitude had been his only true friend. Once Carter had even made overtures to Guy, hoping for his help to rouse Robin from his mournful slumber, and when Guy had approached Robin, the hero’s temper exploded like a blast of heat from a stoked furnace. Since then, nobody disturbed Robin again, watching him from afar with concern.

Robin, Guy, Marian, Carter, and Archer had arrived in Aquitaine only several days ago; Allan had arrived two days later than the others. Queen Eleanor’s journey to Poitiers had been safe and speedy, and now the whole court was awakening from the gloomy days. Robert de Beaumont and Roger de Lacy were intending to stay in Poitou until they had some reliable information about King Richard’s release. Robin’s first meeting with Queen Eleanor had been brief and formal, and then he had retired to his wife’s quarters.

Robin spent several days confined to his room, the days which for him were tantamount to being in hell as guilt was devouring him, along with agony, threatening to swallow him whole. He lived in the world of memories about Much: his first meeting with Much before the fire at Gisborne Manor, the happy years of their childhood and adolescence, the years of their service to King Richard in the Holy Land, and the time they had lived in Sherwood. His mind was going through a maze that had no walls, no entrances, and no exits. A feeling of tart, overpowering guilt, swept through him every time he remembered the moments of Much’s death. Robin was also full of blinding fury, vowing to avenge his best friend’s death.

Robin stretched on the bed, his eyes still closed. “It is time to get up,” he heard his wife’s voice.

Robin opened his heavy eyes with effort. Dressed in a fashionable gown that created an air of elegance with slim classical lines and its combination of black and violet hues of silk, Melisende stood near the bed, looking down at her husband with the undeniable concern in her eyes. Usually, his wife had a salutary effect on him when he was a tangle of exasperated nerves, enmeshing him in the web of her beauty and charms and soothing him with her quiet understanding. But now, when his heart was a wound that refused to heal, she couldn’t assuage his pain that kept rolling over and over through his mind in endless waves.

“Melisende,” he whispered; he shifted on the bed.

Melisende settled on the edge of the bed. “It is already midday, Robin. I woke up at dawn.”

“Why did you let me sleep for so long?”

“Robin Hood, how long are you planning to wallow in grief?” she questioned in a gentle but disapproving voice. “You rarely leave the room since you arrived at court. There is life beyond these walls.”

Robin sighed grievously and lamented, “I needed some time for myself.”

She gave him a compassionate look, her hand reaching up to touch his face comfortingly. “I know, my love,” she whispered as she caressed his cheek tenderly. “You needed time to grieve.”

At her caress, a blanket of softness cocooned him. As he recalled his nightmare, the warmth in his body was gone, and he felt chilled to the bone. “I had a nightmare about Much.” His heart constricted in a tight ball, and his grief weighed heavily on his tormented face as well. “I often have the same nightmare. Much asks me to save him, but I always fail to come to him in time.” He clenched his fists.

“It will be better over time,” she soothed.

Robin drew a deep breath. “So far it is not getting better but only worse. And I am not sure that I want to forget the past.” A lump formed in his throat. “I fear if I forget Much, I will betray his memory and myself. With Much gone, life becomes filled with ebony darkness.”

“Time passes and life never stops, and nothing can change it,” she spoke philosophically. “More happy days will surely come after darkness.”

He laughed bitterly. “Really? I doubt that.” He didn’t want to let his memories of Much go, fearful of losing the last bond with the old days and with the past in which he had been happy.

Melisende brought his hand to her lips so that she could kiss his knuckles. “Yes, Robin.”

A wave of despair overcame him, and Robin clutched Melisende’s hand as if it were a talisman for him. “Much didn’t deserve to die, but he died because of me. I should have died instead of Much.”

“Don’t you dare say this!” she chided him. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for Much’s death!” She frowned at him. “Much died for England and Richard, and it is the most honorable death possible! He died to let you live because we would have done anything to make you happy!”

“He died not for the king – he died for me!”

A look of unutterable despair crossed her face. “Robin, you must become yourself – Robin Hood whom I fell in love with in Acre!” she exclaimed. “You have to live for England, for Richard, and for me!”

With a sudden impulse, Robin leaned forward and pulled Melisende to him. He kissed her with softness and tenderness, and she snaked her arms around his neck. He kissed her because he needed her to take away his pain and because he missed her deeply when they were apart. Robin deepened the kiss, his hand slipping down to trace the curve of her jaw and the smooth expanse of her throat with his fingertips.

As they parted from their embrace, Melisende stared at her husband in fascination. He looked so humble and so vulnerable that her heart skipped a beat. "Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I am. I will become Robin Hood again, although I don’t believe in the cause anymore.”

She smiled, relieved that he looked more optimistic now. “Are all of your dreams really dead?”

“Most of them,” he confirmed. “But despite everything, there is a small part of my heart which still wants to fight against tyranny and for the people of England so that we can make the world a better place.”

Tears flooded her eyes and dropped onto her cheeks. Her arms encircled him, and her fingers burrowed into his hair. “Robin,” she whispered into his ear. “It is not easy to be a hero, my love.”

Robin wrapped his arm around her waist. “I am so glad that I have you.”  His voice came to a halt and he sighed distressingly. “I wouldn’t know how to live if you die. I need you so much.”

“If I died, you would be able to move on over time.”

Robin looked at her as if she were a patient of an asylum. “You don’t know what you are talking about, Melisende. I would have never been able to forget you.”

Melisende pressed a hand to her breast, the gesture signifying that her words came from her heart. “You would have never forgotten me, but you would have been able to go on living.” She smiled. “And I wouldn’t have condemned you for that.” She had long accepted that she loved him more than he loved her; she was fully aware that he was torn between Marian and her.

“Don’t say such things,” he pleaded.

“I won’t,” she conceded. 

“Thank you.”

Melisende smiled. “Get out of this bed before I drag you out of there!” She shifted closer to the edge, then graciously rose to her feet and walked over to the chair where a pile of Robin’s clothes lay. “I am going to find a handsome outfit for you. You have to be dressed and ready for our meeting with Aunt Eleanor.”

Robin arched a brow. “Has Her Grace summoned me?”

“Yes, she has.” She returned to the bed and threw a gray doublet and matching trousers there.

A gleam of gratitude lit up his somber countenance. “Thank you very much.”

Robin started dressing, while Melisende watched him with a languid, almost tragic smile on her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, puzzled.

“I am just glad that you feel better.” She couldn’t reveal to him that there was a foreboding in her heart.

“I miss our dear Richard so much,” he said longingly. “I mean our son.”

Melisende flashed a resplendent smile. “I miss him too.”

Robin put off his nightshirt; then he slipped into his brocade shirt with excessive haste. “I would like to spend more time with Richard. It is such a pity that we cannot bring him to court.”

“We cannot risk our son’s safety until Richard’s return,” she affirmed regrettably.

Melisende and Robin decided to hide their son until King Richard’s return; they didn’t want anyone to harm the child or use him as the leverage against Robin. When Melisende had departed from Bordeaux to England, she had placed their son into the custody of Mother Superior in one of the abbeys in Bordeaux. The woman was her godmother, and she fully trusted her; nobody knew where the child was.

Robin contemplated his own reflection in the mirror on the wall, thinking that he looked handsome in his fashionable attire but was too pale. “We will leave the court with our son after Richard’s return.”

“Of course, Robin. Let’s hope that my cousin will be home in a few months.” Melisende smiled moodily. Every time she thought of the king’s return, a tiny moth of apprehension fluttered across her ribcage and her heart tightened. A feeling of dark premonition seized her and didn’t want to relinquish its hold over her with passing time. “I will be the happiest woman on earth when you, our son, and I can finally live in peace.”

“There is a hidden danger, and I know nothing about it,” he added in an agitated voice.

She raised a brow. “You mean your suspicions about the traitor among the king’s men?”

He stared thoughtfully into her eyes for the space of a heartbeat. “I don’t think that Roger or Robert betrayed King Richard. Marian didn’t do that for certain.” He paused, sighing heavily. She nodded in agreement, and he went on. “I cannot believe that Guy betrayed Richard – his own brother – once again. He has a conscience, and he has changed a lot.” He sighed again. “I thought of Allan who obviously fears that I suspect him. But despite his previous treachery, I cannot believe that he allied himself with Vaisey."

“What about Will and Djaq? She is a Saracen woman!”

Robin shook his head. “They would have never betrayed me. And Djaq saved my life in Jerusalem!”

“Whom do you suspect then, Robin?”

The walls of his heart crumbled as Robin voiced his conclusion. “I think that Little John might be the spy. He spoke of King Richard in very disrespectful tones, and now I think that he might have changed his allegiance. That’s why John remained in Nottingham; I asked Will to secretly watch him.”

It occurred to Melisende that there were more people in the outlaws’ camp when Robin had stayed there. “What about Kate and her awful mother who hates you?”

Robin nodded. “Yes, one of them might be a traitor.” He sighed. “I just don’t know.”

Soon Robin and Melisende were walking through the corridors, heading to Queen Eleanor’s chambers. Melisende had already started the negotiations about Richard’s release and had dispatched royal envoys to Germany. Yet, Melisende didn’t know the latest news of her cousin as she spent the last few days with Robin. They hoped that now Queen Eleanor would inform them about the ongoing negotiations.

Melisende and Robin met Roger de Lacy, the Baron of Pontefract, and Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, in the corridor. Roger and Robert looked like courtiers dressed in the latest Aquitanian fashion: Roger wore an elegant doublet and trousers made of emerald brocade and matching the color of his eyes, each item adorned with diamonds; Robert wore an eccentric white and green brocade doublet with a high jeweled collar and white trousers; jeweled belts glimmered around their waists. After the exchange of greetings, the conversation went to the events at Pontefract Castle.

Robert de Beaumont put a firm hand on Robin’s shoulder. “How are you feeling, Robin?”

“Thank you, Robert. I am a little better,” Robin lied.

Roger de Lacy sighed deeply, feeling guilty for the tragic turn of events at Pontefract. “Robin, please accept my most sincere condolences for Much’s death. I am so sorry that it happened at my castle.”

Robin forced a smile. “It is not your fault, Roger. You couldn’t know that Vaisey would set this trap.”

Robert embraced Robin affectionately. “Robin, I love you very much. Please never forget this.”

“I love you, too, Robert,” Robin replied sincerely as he pulled back.

Melisende stood and watched them. She was relieved that Robin apparently felt better, hoping that his close friends would help him cope with the grief over Much’s death.

Roger approached Robin and carefully scooped him into his arms. “I love you, my friend. I am so happy that you survived your fatal wound in Acre,” he whispered into Robin’s ear. He disentangled from their embrace. “So many friends and good men died. We cannot lose you, Robin.”

Robin glanced between Robert and Roger. “I love you so much – all of you.”

In the next moment, Carter appeared from behind the corner. “What about me, Robin? Do I deserve some love of our hero?” Like everyone else, he wore court attire – a gray doublet and matching trousers; his clothes wasn’t adorned with any jewels, for he liked more simple style than Robin’s other friends.

Robin smiled woefully. “I love you, Carter.” He came to Carter and hugged him. Then he took a step back, running his eyes over his friends. “I cannot lose any of you.”

Robert smiled sadly. “Robin, you have us. We will always be with you.”

“We will always help you,” Carter supplied.

“And we will always protect you,” Roger emphasized.

“Thank you, my friends,” Robin said.

“I am sorry to interrupt you, but we are having an audience with Aunt Eleanor,” Melisende interposed as she stepped closer to Robin. “We will have an evening for conversations.”

Robin nodded. “Of course, we should go.”

Melisende shifted her gaze to Robert. “Robert, will you take care of our little bird tonight? Maybe you will have a ride or play chess or cards together?” She knew both Roger and Robert very well, but Robert once was her lover and she liked him more than de Lacy.

“I will do everything for my little bird,” Robert answered, winking at Melisende.

“I am sure we can arrange something,” Carter agreed.

“Let’s play chess tonight in my quarters,” Roger offered.

“What a great idea,” Robert agreed, his eyes darting between Roger, Carter, and Robin. “Roger is the best chess player I have ever met. Even King Richard plays chess worse.”

“I taught Robin and Robert to play chess,” Roger announced proudly.

“You haven’t taught yet,” Carter interjected.

Roger winked at Carter. “I will gladly do this tonight.”

Robin’s lips curved in a rueful smile. “I like the idea of a chess contest.”

Robert chuckled. “I suppose an archery contest is better for the great Robin Hood. But next week we can have an archery contest as well!” His attempt at jesting wasn’t misplaced: everyone, even Robin, laughed.

When Robin and Melisende hurriedly left, Roger, Carter, and Robert headed to the great hall, moving through the labyrinth of corridors. The three men descended the stairs and were about to leave for the great hall when they accidentally stumbled into Lady Marian of Knighton.

In her deep grief, Marian looked very solemn and yet attractive in her modest dark gray gown with a high neckline and the sleeves trimmed with delicate white French lace. Unlike other ladies in Aquitaine, she didn’t wear a lot of jewelry: there was only a sapphire brooch fastened to the neckline of her gown, which was Robin’s old gift. Marian was thin and pale, and her face had an imprint of her anguish and grief over Much’s demise. She didn’t look as strong as usual: there was a vulnerability in her sapphire blue eyes, in every line of her face, and even in the way she walked and held herself.

“Good day, Lady Marian,” Robert de Beaumont greeted her with a bow.

“Lady Marian, what are you doing here?” Roger de Lacy inquired in a harsh voice; then he bowed to her. “You cannot go to the Maubergeonne Tower without Queen Eleanor’s invitation.”

Marian looked slightly absent-minded. “I was just wandering around the palace.”

Carter regarded Marian with concern. “Are you alright, Marian?”

Marian gave Carter a small smile of gratitude. She liked him more than Robin’s other close friends. “I am fine, Carter. Thank you for your concern.” Releasing a heavy sigh, she slowly walked away, heading to the main part of the royal palace and out of the Maubergeonne Tower.

“You are too harsh to Marian,” Carter said with a sharp rebuke. “She is mourning the loss of Much.”

“I have never liked her,” Roger snapped. “She married Gisborne and betrayed Robin!”

“I feel for Lady Marian. She indeed betrayed Robin, but she regrets that she caused him pain,” Robert voiced his opinion. “She has lost a lot! We should be more sympathetic to her. She has deserved our respect because she saved Robin from Prince John, and she obviously still loves Robin.”

The king’s men nodded at each other, expressing their silent agreement. The events at Pontefract were tragic for both Robin and Marian. It was obvious that Marian was deeply affected by Much’s death, and her sheer grief made them respect her. Then they walked away, planning to have a short stroll in the gardens.

Marian made her way to the guests’ quarters in the eastern wing of the palace, where her chambers were located. As she entered her bedroom, she rushed to the bed and burst into tears as painful thoughts began to swirl in her head. Only Robin could understand her pain more than anyone else; his profound grief was as poignant as hers. But Robin was not hers – she had lost him when she had married Guy. She couldn’t just meet with Robin in the woods and flung herself into his arms, putting her head on his chest and weeping. Now Marian missed Robin more than she had felt since his miraculous return to England.

Meanwhile, Guy was going to pay a visit to Megan. He didn’t have a chance to talk to her in private after their arrival, for she was always busy in the Queen Mother’s household as a lady-in-waiting. He missed Megan more than ever before. He was sure that now Marian wanted to be with Robin, and that thought didn’t hurt him for some reason. Guy still wanted to have home and family, and he no longer pictured Marian as the mother of his children and his wife – instead, Megan’s face always resurfaced in his mind. Why was Guy feeling so towards Megan and Marian? His mind was moving in tight little circles; the weight of fear and confusion was like a vice-grip on his chest.

As Guy approached his bedchamber located, he stopped rooted as his gaze fell on Megan who waited for him near the door. This time, she was alone, without the queen’s ladies, and Guy could talk to her.

Megan smiled faintly at Guy. “Sir Guy, welcome to our court,” she began in an official manner.

Guy bowed to her. “Meg, I am happy to see you again.” He smiled. “Why are you so formal with me?”

Her expression became utterly serious, her gaze cold. “Guy, I am not as official with you as I should be after what happened between us.”

Guy sighed heavily. “I thought the ladies at court in Aquitaine are more frivolous.”

She frowned. “You know that I am not like other women.”

“I am sorry. I know that.”

“Guy, I don’t want to talk to you in private because I don’t know what to say,” she admitted truthfully. “Anything that I say will make me feel uncomfortable. That’s why I prefer formality.” She made herself look cold and her voice sound dispassionate, but inside her heart was breaking.

Guy heaved a sigh. “As you wish,” he conceded.

Guy eyed Megan. She was exquisite in her stylish mulberry velvet gown with whimsical sleeves that were tight to the elbow; the front of her gown was embroidered with silver braid and adorned with diamonds. Guy thought that gowns in the Aquitanian design suited her. There was a large sapphire oval-cut necklace on her neck and a pair of matching earrings in her ears. As she was looking at him with her eyes sparkling like precious sapphires, Guy thought that Megan had never looked more beautiful to him than now.

“How do you like the palace?” Megan asked politely.

Guy smiled. “This place is amazing. I have never seen such a splendor anywhere else, even though there are no regular feasts, festivities, and other entertainments right now.”

“The court is reviving after Queen Eleanor’s return,” she clarified. “When Lady Melisende and I arrived in Poitiers weeks ago, everything was gloomy. Lady Melisende was too busy with negotiations with the Holy Roman Emperor, and I was trying to prepare for the Queen Mother’s return.”

“Well, now the queen is back.”

She nodded. “The court in this palace is an amazing place, and you will see this soon,” she stated with unstinting conviction. “I cannot imagine any other more beautiful and interesting place, although at times pretense and masks may become rather irritating and you may begin to want to leave the court.”

“I wouldn’t want to live at court,” he confessed.

She sighed. “Guy, the Queen Mother won’t allow you to leave.”

“Why do you think so? I haven’t heard from her since our arrival.”

She gave him an arch smile. “I know that Her Grace wants to see you, Guy. She spoke about you to Melisende and me; she said that you would be invited to one of the feasts very soon.”

Guy swallowed the bile that rose in his throat; he always associated Queen Eleanor with the secret he was keeping. “Do you know why she wants to meet with me?”

Megan was astonished that he asked her such questions. “Guy, you helped to collect a lot of gold for King Richard’s release. And you saved Robin’s life at Pontefract.” She chuckled. “Obviously, she wants to thank you for these good deeds and probably to reward you. Queen Eleanor and King Richard are always generous to those how are loyal to them and serve them well.”

“I didn’t do that for a reward,” he asserted.

She smiled at him; her coldness was gone for a brief moment. “I know, and she knows this too.”

“Who knows, Meg,” Guy muttered.

Megan let out an apologetic smile. “I beg your pardon, Guy, but I have to go. I came to this wing of the palace only because the Queen Mother summons Lady Marian to her chambers the day after tomorrow.” Then she bobbed a curtsey and stalked away, her hips swaying graciously.

“What a woman,” Guy whispered, smiling to himself.

Megan was not like other women Guy had ever met; she was not even like Marian. Megan was not a maid to be easily won by any nobleman, even by a man dowered with attractiveness, invested with the halo of romance, and possessing an ample wealth. Her suitors could give her many expensive gifts and could show off their riches, but she always sent them away; they could deluge her with ardent letters, but she didn’t deign to answer one word if she didn’t like the sender. A man like the Earl of Buckingham and the Baron of Rotherham – two traitors killed by Guy – had no chance to win Megan’s heart and devotion. And yet, her heart belonged to Guy, as she herself had told him once.

Guy wanted and needed to see Megan; he vowed that he would think more about his personal situation. Then his mind drifted back to his and Marian’s audience with the queen, and he felt a shiver running down his spine at the thought that one of the reasons was their knowledge of the Queen Mother’s true relationship with Robin. He wasn’t naïve to assume that Eleanor would forget that someone else knew her grave secret. With these thoughts, Guy entered his bedroom, intending to spend the day alone.

§§§

Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine was not in her luxurious apartments in the Maubergeonne Tower when Robin and Melisende came to her. The queen retired to the private chambers for the audience with a royal messenger who brought the letter from King Richard. Robin and Melisende had to wait for more than an hour for Eleanor to return. The waiting time seemed endless, and minutes were passing slowly; Melisende watched Robin again slip into a deep melancholy, and her heart constricted in her breast.

Robin stood near the window that faced the magnificent garden, his eyes taking in the stunning landscape – flowerbeds filled with rare flowers and herbs, fountains, lovely arbors, and green terraces green terraces which glinted in the sun. The window was ajar, and he enjoyed the exquisite fragrance of flowers which came with every puff of air he breathed in.

Sighing deeply, Robin swept his eyes over the chamber. It didn’t change since the days when he had been here before his departure to the Holy Land. The chamber was luxurious and richly furnished. The ceiling was in gold, silver, and ivory; the walls were whitewashed and swathed in rich tapestries. On one of the walls, there was the large portrait of Queen Eleanor in her youth: she was a picture of perfect beauty with her expressive, spellbinding, and symmetrical features, looking like a gorgeous painting from the artist's brush. All high-chairs and armchairs were upholstered with gold and silver velvet. All other pieces of furniture had numerous inlays of silver and gold and were made out of heavy mahogany.

Robin heard a quiet noise of the opening door and swiveled. His eyes focused on the cloth of silver shimmering on crimson of a luxurious brocade gown, diamonds and rubies glittering on a slender neck, and then he rested his eyes on the proud face of Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. Her silver hair was arranged in an up-do and secured by a jeweled headdress. As always, she didn’t look like a faded old woman with the last vestiges of beauty in her eyes – she looked as regal and beautiful and charismatic.

Robin bowed deeply in respect. “Your Grace,” he greeted officially.

Melisende sank into a gracious curtsey. “Aunt Eleanor,” she said with a hearty smile.

Eleanor welcomed them with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, my darlings. I trust you are doing well.” She dropped the royal etiquette from the start.

Queen Eleanor waved her hand, dismissing Robin from his bow and Melisende from her curtsey.

Robin raised his head, and his pale blue eyes meet Eleanor’s dark blue eyes. They stared at each other in silence for a few heartbeats. Eleanor smiled widely and affectionately, and there was so much affection, sentiment, and tenderness in her smile that a cloud in Robin’s mind began to dissipate; he smiled back at her.

After rising from her curtsey, Melisende watched Eleanor and Robin.

“We are doing fine. Thank you for your hospitality,” Robin replied politely. His voice sounded less steady than he wanted it to be. He was a little frightened to see the Queen Mother as it was the first time when he was face-to-face with Eleanor after the revelation of the secret of his birth.

Eleanor smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”

“We were waiting for you, Aunt Eleanor,” Melisende informed.

“I had an important meeting with the messenger from Germany.” The Queen Mother settled herself in a whimsically carved, velvet-cushioned armchair. “Take a seat, please,” she offered, pointing at two nearby high-back chairs.

Robin bowed again. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he answered politely as he sat down.

“Thank you, Aunt Eleanor,” Melisende supplied.

In the lambent sunlight filtering through the bright-colored glasses of the windows with carved arches, Queen Eleanor looked unearthly regal. Robin thought that the woman he was looking at now was the most unusual lady he had ever seen in his life. Her beautiful and proud visage and the richness of her inner world were undeniable, and he could also see nobility and dignity in Eleanor’s face.

Eleanor slightly inclined her head. “How is your health, Robin? How are you feeling now?”

Robin flinched as the pictures of his demise in Imuiz flashed in his mind. He stared down, at the carpet, embarrassed and frightened at the same time. “I am feeling very well, Your Grace.”

Melisende took Robin’s hand in hers. “Robin, are you alright?”

A smiling Robin flicked his gaze to his wife. “I am fine.”

The queen sighed. If the mere question about his health unsettled Robin so much, she feared to think of the changes in his character after his death. “Robin, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable with this question.” She sighed again. “I am just worried about you.”

Robin felt both embarrassed and angry for showing his sudden vulnerability. “I am still recovering from my wound. I hope that the hot summer climate in Aquitaine will accelerate my recovery.” He paused for an instant, sighing deeply. “I thank you for your anxiety about my health, for I don’t deserve it.”

“You do deserve much more, Robin,” Eleanor objected tactfully, her voice firm and high. “England, the Plantagenet family, and I owe you an immeasurable debt of gratitude. You saved our king’s life many times. Richard would have been dead without you a long time ago.”

Robin smiled, modestly to his own surprise. “Your Graces doesn’t owe me anything because I did nothing I didn’t want to do,” he said with conviction. “I wouldn’t have been able to live if I hadn’t saved King Richard, my sovereign, friend, and mentor many years ago.”

Melisende smiled. “Loyalty and nobility of heart are in Robin’s blood.”

Eleanor looked at Melisende. “You are right, my dear.” Her gaze flew to Robin. “Robin, Richard has always spoken very highly of you. In all his letters about your heroic deeds in the Holy Land, he wrote incredible things, which impressed me and everyone at court.” She chuckled. “Richard has always treasured your loyalty and honesty the most among all your qualities.”

Although he had changed, Robin still liked being lauded, especially if that praise was given by Eleanor of Aquitaine. “I am grateful, Your Grace, for bringing me close to embarrassment.”

“Come on, Robin,” Melisende said cheerfully. “It is impossible to embarrass you.”

A playful chuckle came from Robin. “There are only two people who can make me easily embarrassed.” He gazed at Queen Eleanor. “I mean King Richard and you, Your Grace.”

Eleanor looked slightly amazed, but then she laughed. "Oh, Robin, I have to say that your confession has surprised me. But it is good to know that I can make you feel beside yourself with embarrassment.”

This time, Robin didn’t respond to Eleanor’s witty barb. A long, tenebrous silence stretched between them. Robin glanced away, focusing his eyes on the window; his mind again drifted back to his beloved dead friend, and the pain in his heart was so sharp that he feared it would break into many intangible pieces.

Queen Eleanor figured out her son’s mood fluctuations. “Robin, accept my most sincere condolences with your friend’s death. I am mourning the loss of Lord Much too. May his soul rest in peace…”

“I know, Your Grace,” Robin murmured, with a note of deep sadness in his voice.

Now Eleanor’s eyes were as soft now as they had been impenetrable a moment ago. “I ordered many masses for in the memory of Lord Much. I will forever feel obliged to this brave and kind man who helped to rescue me and who saved your life, Robin.”

Robin’s heart constricted in his chest. “No, Your Grace. You are not obliged to anyone for your salvation.” He heaved a sigh. “It is the duty of every loyal vassal to serve his king and his queen.” He trailed off again, and there was a tremble in his voice as he went on. “Much saved me, and I owe him my life.”

“Your life is precious to Richard and to me,” Eleanor affirmed in an intimate manner. “We would have done anything to protect you. It makes us obliged to Much.”

Robin let out a tremulous smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “There is no debt.”

Melisende deciphered a haunted look in Robin’s eyes before they regained blankness, a sign that he wasn’t ready to bear his heart to them. She changed the topic. “Aunt Eleanor, what news do you have?”

Robin was glad to jump to the pressing topic. “How is the king doing, Your Grace?”

Queen Eleanor veered her gaze to Robin. “Richard already knows that you, Robin, survived by a miracle and returned to England.” She smiled airily. “He is overjoyed with the news. He wishes you all the best and requests that you are careful.” Then her smile vanished. “He promised to deal with everyone responsible for the regicide attempt in Imuiz. Nobody will escape justice this time.”

The unforgiving coldness in Melisende’s eyes apprised them of her resurfacing ruthlessness. “The Black Knights must pay for their treason. Richard pardoned Sir Guy of Gisborne, but all other Vaisey’s friends who signed the Pact of Nottingham must be executed.”

Eleanor added, “I will have to meet with Guy of Gisborne later today.”

Robin’s face twisted into hardness, a dangerous glow in his eyes. “I have been dreaming of dealing with the Black Knights for so long.” His chilly voice was edged with inexpiable hatred. “I am ready to go to hell and die again if it means that our liege will go home safe and these traitors are punished.”

Melisende frowned. “Robin, never say anything about your death again! Never ever!”

The Queen Mother gave him a long, worried look. “Don’t think about it. It won’t do you any good.”

There was a mirthless laugh from Robin. “The Operation Shah-Mat failed because of me,” he said proudly, but with a touch of dejection. “I must finish what I started.”

The Queen Mother and the king’s cousin exchanged uneasy glances. Then the old lady nodded, signaling that she would handle the matter by herself.

“Robin, you will do as Richard orders,” the queen stated sternly, knowing very well that the lion will keep Robin away from any peril at any cost. They didn’t wish to lose Robin again.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Robin conceded reluctantly. Then he smiled brightly. “I miss King Richard.”

“And so do I,” Melisende chimed in.

Eleanor’s expression changed into wistfulness. “We all miss Richard.” Richard was her favorite child among all her children, and his imprisonment was a hard blow for her.

“Your Grace, please tell us everything you know about the king,” Robin requested.

The Queen tilted her head. “You know that Richard was brought by Duke Leopold of Austria to Speyer and then handed over to the Holy Roman Emperor. Many misfortunes happened to my poor son.”

Eleanor began the long tale about the unlucky captive king imprisoned at Trifles Castle by Henry VI, a member of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, the King of Germany and the Holy Roman Emperor.

Richard’s spies reported that Prince John had made drastic overtures to establish an alliance with King Philippe II of France by agreeing to share the territory of Normandy, Anjou, Maine, and even Aquitaine with France if Philippe agreed to support him in his quest for the crown of England; John had never cared about the continental territories, and he was ready to sacrifice them in exchange for the King of France’s support. Additionally, John had secretly instigated the emperor to assassinate Richard in Germany for a certain payment or asked to transfer the captive lion into the custody of Philippe or his custody. John and Philippe had already offered eighty hundred marks to the emperor to hold Richard prisoner for a year.

Sheriff Vaisey and the Earl of Buckingham had secretly negotiated with Duke Leopold of Austria the vile plan about King Richard’s capture and then his possible assassination; they didn’t come to an agreement with the Holy Roman Emperor, which saved Richard’s life. Richard was a royal prize for the emperor who coveted to receive a huge ransom for him. The lucrative offer of John and Philippe tempted the emperor, whose ideas of honor were lame, to say the least; yet, he turned down the offer because he didn’t wish to go further than holding Richard captive. Vaisey’s sophisticated international plot almost failed.

Thanks to the diligent efforts of Guy, Archer, Megan, and Allan, Prince John no longer owned the chest of gold, and the prince’s plans to usurp power and overthrow his elder brother were ruined. The English emissaries, the abbots of Boxley and of Robertsbridge, had finally caught up with King Richard and had begun the diplomatic negotiations for his release. There was hope that the king would be free soon.

“Well, it seems that all European kings are against King Richard,” Robin concluded in a tight voice after Eleanor had lapsed into silence. The thought that Richard himself was at fault for his current predicament flashed in his mind. Richard was the most brilliant military commander and the bravest soldier in Christendom, but he wasn’t a great king and clearly lacked Queen Eleanor’s political astuteness.

The Queen Mother cast an ever-penetrating gaze at him; she could easily guess his thoughts. “I know that you blame Richard for his own captivity.”

Robin lowered his head. “Yes, it is true. I cannot lie to you, Your Grace.”

A sigh tumbled from Eleanor’s lips. “I am not going to reprimand you for saying the truth, Robin.” Her voice was firm, but without any note of displeasure. “My son succeeded in offending all his kingly comrades on the Crusade, and they are surely relishing in the sweetness of his captivity.”

Melisende laughed bitterly. “Every king scoffs at the caged lion.”

“That is so awful,” Robin put in murkily.

The queen dragged a deep breath, her face inundated with pensiveness. “I understand why Richard had fallen out with Philip of France, his former friend. There was no way Richard could marry Alix of France, and Philippe would have been slighted in any case. Philippe also plotted to annex Normandy and other continental lands. Philippe and Richard were destined to become enemies sooner or later.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Yet, I still think that Richard should have been more careful with the King of France for the sake of political stability in our empire.”

“King Richard was too intemperate with Duke Leopold of Austria, who was the leader of the German contingent of the Crusaders,” Robin opined, with a touch regret mingled with disapproval.

“But Richard’s most powerful enemy is Henry VI, the Holy Roman Emperor,” Melisende continued speculating. “It was not the right decision to support King Tancred of Sicily against the emperor when Henry controlled most of Germany and many lands on the Italian peninsula.”

“King Richard’s capture is an illegal act,” Robin proclaimed matter-of-factly. “Emperor Henry and Duke Leopold can be excommunicated by the pope. Pope Celestine decreed that nobody could cause harm to the Crusaders traveling to and from the Holy Land.”

The queen stared at Robin, the gleam of pride in her eyes. “I am sure they will be excommunicated eventually, but even if they consider such an opportunity, I doubt they care about it.” Her face hardened, her lips tightened. “Instead of releasing him, they placed Richard on trial, and some ludicrous charges were leveled against him. The sentence was that a ransom of one hundred thousand pounds of silver must be paid for his release, and Richard also had to declare himself a vassal of the emperor.”

Melisende stiffened in shock, raising her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my Lord! I didn’t know about that!”

A look of amazement and then horror settled on Robin’s face. “The emperor crossed a line! This is unbelievable!” he exclaimed in indignation. “On what charge can they place the King of England on trial?”

“I don’t know,” Eleanor supplied. “Only Richard will be able to tell us once he comes back home.”

“We should get him out of Germany as soon as possible,” Robin spluttered, his gaze darting between Eleanor and his wife. “Is the gold we stole from Buckingham enough to pay the ransom?”

“We have less than we need.” Eleanor’s voice quivered to a halt. She wished to have Richard back as soon as possible, and the prospect of waiting was grating at her nerves.

Robin sighed heavily. Now Eleanor would have to raise more funds. Again the people would suffer from Prince John’s plots. “Your Grace will raise taxes to get the rest of the money,” he said uneasily.

“Yes,” the queen confirmed. “Melisende offered how to collect the rest of the ransom.”

Robin flitted his gaze to his wife. “And?”

“We will raise several taxes,” Melisende enlightened. “Clergy and laymen will be taxed for a quarter of the value of their property. We will also confiscate part of the gold and silver treasures owned by the churches. The money will also be raised from the scutage and the carucage taxes.”

Robin was relieved. “Well, at least we won’t have to raise the full amount for the ransom.”

“It will take us about five months,” Eleanor assured them.

“That’s too long!” he cried out in regret mingled with rage.

Eleanor released a sigh of frustration. “It is not possible earlier.”

“We will do our best to collect the ransom in a few months,” Melisende assured Robin.

A resigned Robin nodded. “I understand the situation.” Then he broached another subject, his eyes resting on his wife’s face. “Melisende, did you tell Your Grace everything about the events in Acre?”

Melisende’s countenance grew sadder and graver. “Only what was necessary.”

The Queen Mother shook her head. “She told me how you were wounded; nothing else.” She let out a sigh, turning her gaze to her niece. “Melisende, now you are more loyal to Robin than to England.” She paused, her eyes sliding to Robin, her lips curving in an evocative smile. “I know what she did for you in the Tower, and I don’t condemn her actions. A woman in love can do many things for a man she loves. It is our love that creates in us a desire to reach for miracles and to attain coups to glorify our loved ones.”

Robin knew that Queen Eleanor and Melisende were very close, and now he received an additional confirmation. Eleanor obviously knew that Robin was well aware of his true origins. “Melisende shouldn’t have blackmailed Prince John to save me,” he blurted out.

Melisende looked offended. “I had to stop John! He would have killed you, Robin, and Marian!”

Eleanor dipped her head in agreement. “John realized the truth about your birth, Robin, and turned berserk with rage. He would have murdered you and Lady Marian straight off the reel if Melisende hadn’t interfered,” she stated convincingly. “The Angevin temper may send anybody to a grave.”

Robin’s heart thumped harder. Staring into Eleanor’s eyes, he felt as if he were nude, for there were no secrets between them. “That’s right,” he said after a pause.

An awkward, tense silence ensued, threatening to change the course of their conversation to the topic which both Robin and Eleanor still dreaded to touch on. Melisende watched them in silence. Eleanor and Robin were _a mother and her son_ , and these words echoed in her flurried mind like a hymn of hope and in his anxious mind like a cry of a frightened deer. A strange sense of disquietude was in the air, but nobody spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I promised, there is a tragedy in this chapter. Vaisey wanted to shoot Marian, but Robin saved her from the evil man’s arrow. As a result, Much heroically died, sacrificing himself for Robin Hood and saving Marian’s life. Much is the greatest hero of Pontefract! I know that Much’s deathbed scene is heartbreaking and emotional. But there is one good thing: Eve will have a baby in a few months. Robin and Marian will take care of this child and of Eve. Later you will learn what will happen to Eve.
> 
> I am sorry that Much died, and I am sure that some readers don’t like this twist. Why did I kill off Much? Robin is an incredibly gifted fighter and an accomplished military commander; he is a very lucky man because he does have the talent for cheating death. But Robin and the outlaws cannot always win. The war with Prince John, Vaisey, and the Black Knights is bloody and pitiless, and it would have been unrealistic if nobody died. Moreover, Prince John is aware of his blood ties to Robin, and now he wants the hero dear more than ever; Vaisey is always ready to help kill someone, but he fails and kills Much.
> 
> When I began to write this epic, I wanted to make a disillusioned idealist out of the idealistic Robin Hood. How can an idealist like Robin become a realist? It is an extremely difficult for a writer to achieve this objective. Robin’s death changed him a lot: it disillusioned him, but he still has some illusions left despite his claims to the contrary. Certain tragic events, like Much’s demise, warrant deeper changes in Robin’s character. Robin takes some time to genuinely reflect on the delta between the results of his fight and his beliefs, and this way he will have a vested interest in updating his beliefs to be more accurate and more realistic. Don’t worry: Robin won’t lose the idealism completely, but he will become more practical and understanding of the cruel reality and his inability to change the whole world.
> 
> Of course, Robin is heartbroken and devastated after Much’s death. I have to warn to warn you that it is not the last heartbreak Robin is experiencing in this story. Guy will also have to face a tragedy. The siege of Nottingham will be surprising for many readers.
> 
> This chapter is also difficult for Marian. She has to kill a man for the first time of her life in cold blood, and it is a traumatic experience. Marian also loses Much’s her childhood friend. She cannot even come to Robin and share her grief with him because Robin is a married man.
> 
> I promised you that Guy would have a few moments of heroism in this epic. Guy is not a hero and not a leader – he is a follower. Yet, he can still be heroic and save someone’s life. And what can be better than saving Robin’s life? Guy and Robin will become closer; Robin’s friends will warm up to the sheriff’s former henchman as well. Guy will be quite heroic in the siege of Nottingham as well. Guy’s relationship with Megan is progressing, and there will be more about the two of them in the next chapter.
> 
> Queen Eleanor is safe and arrives in Poitou. Negotiations about King Richard’s release have already begun (the king will return in chapter 14). The mentioned things about Richard’s captivity and his ransom are historically correct. Robin and Eleanor will have a long conversation in the next chapter.
> 
> And who is Vaisey’s spy? Is Robin right in his suspicions? What do you think?


	12. The Court of Love

**Chapter 12**

**The Court of Love**

The continuing silence in the queen’s chamber was growing more oppressive. It was suffocating, but nobody spoke. It felt like swimming in a sea of uneasiness and not being able to come up for the air.

The queen’s eyes bore into Robin’s. She had dreaded this moment throughout her whole life, and it came at last. She needed candor in their relationship as she wanted to seize the chance and become closer to her youngest son.  “Robin, I know that Richard had to tell you the truth about your birth after you had found your father’s diary. Later he revealed the secret to Melisende, Sir Guy, and Lady Marian.” Her heart tightened in her chest as she saw the shifting emotions on her son’s face.

Robin blinked; he was getting nervous. He was nearing the heart of the maze – his past that had been hidden from him for so long. The arrow of truth had struck him in the heart in Acre, and the inflicted wound was still healing. Richard’s words echoed through his head: “ _No anger. No bitterness. No hatred. No childish and angry outbursts. No ungratefulness. Only acceptance of the truth, and then resignation_.”

He knew for quite some time, by now, that he was Eleanor’s bastard and that his old life had been construed around lies and treacheries. Yet, the truth was a bit of an abstract idea for him, and he could imagine that it was a mirage of an opium-induced mind. As he faced the queen now, Robin was caught in a sudden awe-inspiring downpour of the reality of his situation – now the truth was a substance, a tangible thing, and, for the first time, he fully accepted that he was Queen Eleanor’s illegitimate son.

Robin was astonished that now there was almost no pain in his heart. Yet, a searing cold infused his entire being just in a heartbeat, alienating him from the queen. “Yes, I do know the truth. Discourtesy galls me; of course, I will talk to your Grace.” His voice was molded from a lifeless marble.

Eleanor and Melisende sighed and slanted brief glances at one another. Melisende’s expression was inscrutable as her eyes were watching Robin from beneath her lashes. The gravity of Eleanor’s expression belied the fledgling excitement in her eyes, and a brittle smile was spreading across her features.

“I think you have quite a lot to discuss. I will see myself out,” Melisende offered.

Eleanor smiled. “Thank you, my darling.”

Robin felt Melisende take his hand in hers and give him a gentle squeeze. His wife stood up, flashing him a reassuring smile; then she walked over to the door and exited.

A long, intense silence reigned in the chamber after Melisende’s departure. As the windows were framed with colorful glasses, light changed through them from yellow to golden and slightly red.

Robin dreaded to be in the company of the Queen Mother. A gamut of emotions coursed through him – dread, fear, and mainly confusion. He didn’t know what she wanted from him and how their relationship would now change.

Queen Eleanor gave Robin a long, searching look. “What do you think about that the truth?”

Robin didn’t speak for a few moments, staring at the tapestries on the farthest wall. “The truth is bitter, Your Grace,” he admitted at last; the words he had spoken in their conversation with Richard in Acre.

“But it is the truth, Robin.”

Robin heaved a sigh. “You didn’t want to tell me the truth, did you?”

She gave a nod. “No, I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“I feared that the truth would injure your tender heart,” she confessed. “It was no use to tell you the truth when you were very young because you wouldn’t have understood Malcolm and me.”

“You are right, Your Grace,” Robin agreed. He couldn’t deny that if he had learned the truth at eighteen, it could have destroyed his inner world when his character was only forming. “Even now it all seems almost unreal, but I have already accepted it.”

The Queen Mother was awash in relief. “I know that it was not easy for you to accept it.”

“At first, it was very difficult. Everything seemed surreal and strange; the only real thing was my affection for King Richard,” Robin spoke in a slightly trembling voice. “But my death changed me.”

“Your death made you accept harsh reality.”

He arched a surprised brow. “How do you know that?”

Queen Eleanor flashed a smile. “Robin, you are _my son_ ,” she said proudly, struggling to keep her voice steady. It was the first time in her life she referred to Robin as her son, and emotions overwhelmed her aching heart. “A mother always knows what her child went through, even if she didn't see it herself.”

Robin lowered his gaze. “Certainly,” he said absently, his mind reeling.

“Robin, look at me,” Eleanor requested gently.

He glanced back at her. “Yes?”

“Calm down.” She let out a smile. “We need to talk, don’t we?”

The warmth and sincerity in Eleanor’s eyes put Robin slightly at ease. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good,” Eleanor continued in the same friendly manner. She had already realized how vulnerable Robin was and cautioned herself against being too insistent and emotional. “You are aware that you are not Lady Elizabeth of Locksley’s son. You know who I am and what Richard and I did for you.” She exhaled sharply and looked away for a moment before turning her gaze back to Robin. “You read Malcolm’s diary and know many… private things about my affair with your father.”

“I read the whole diary. I know everything.”

“Oh,” a disheartened Eleanor breathed. “I have never wanted you to learn the truth in this way. I still cannot understand why Malcolm didn’t destroy the diary, the proof of what we have always needed to hide.”

“To be honest, I cannot understand it either; the diary lay intact in the hiding place for years.”

“Richard destroyed it, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Excellent,” the relieved queen breathed. “Well, Malcolm is an intelligent and well-educated man, but he has always lacked common sense and rationality.” She smiled. “You are impulsive, Robin. You can be foolhardy and reckless.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “But in contrast to your father, you are more rational and logical. You have a conniving, keen mind and a lofty intellect.” Her smile widened. “You inherited these qualities from me. You are much more like me than like Malcolm.”

Robin heard the clear note of contempt in her voice as she spoke about Malcolm of Locksley. “Do you despise my father, Your Grace?”

The Queen Mother dipped her head slightly as she glanced into Robin’s eyes; her own orbs were filled with sympathy and regret. “I don’t hate Malcolm, but I do loathe him as a man. I also pity him because his stupidity deprived him of the chance to have a normal life and raise you as his son.” Her voice was edged with disdain. “I am sorry if my words hurt you, but I don’t respect your father – I cannot respect him.”

“I understand you, Your Grace.”

“Do you?” she asked in a bemused voice.

His chest heaved with emotions, and he snorted, “Of course, I do! I struggle to feel any respect for the man who abandoned me when Bailiff Longhorn kidnapped me from Locksley!” Guilt lanced through him like a bolt of lightning, revealing itself on his countenance. “I could never repay my debt to you and Richard for my salvation all these years ago.”

“There is no debt at all.”

“Thank you for saving me, Your Grace.”

“You are welcome, Robin.”

“Those horrible days weren’t easy,” Robin began to reminisce, the pain in his heart intensifying. “I was imprisoned in one of the castles in the north. I spent three months in a cold, damp cell, waiting for King Henry’s return from Normandy so that he could look at me, the living proof of the queen’s adultery.”

Robin told Eleanor what he could recollect about the days of his captivity before King Richard, Sir Edward Fitzwalter of Knighton, Sir William de Longchamp, and Sir Hugh Bennet of Attenborough saved him. By the end of his tale, Eleanor found it extremely hard to control her rising ire; she felt sick of loathing for Malcolm. She was also surprised that Robin remembered everything so well.

For a while, Queen Eleanor was overwhelmed and couldn’t speak. When she spoke, finally, her voice was clear and distinct. “I know this tragic story from Richard, but I hoped that you wouldn’t remember it so well. You were a child, and this experience was very traumatic for you.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “This is the reason why I condemn my father for his benign neglect. He was a coward and left me to my fate,” he proclaimed coldly. “I will never forgive him for that.”

The Queen Mother nodded, her eyes blazing with anger. “I have always blamed Malcolm for being a bad father to you after the fire at Gisborne Manor and Malcolm’s fake death.” Her features hardened. “I still cannot forgive Malcolm for telling Lady Ghislane of Gisborne about our secret.”

“It was a crazy thing to do!”

Eleanor shrugged elegantly. “Malcolm told me that he loved and trusted Ghislane. Maybe he didn’t really suspect that she would divulge our secret to Sir Roger of Gisborne.”

An astounded Robin raised his brows. “Your Grace, did you see my father after the fire?”

She nodded. “Yes, I did, but only a few times,” she responded. “I have known about Malcolm’s survival during all these long years. Of course, we had to keep it a secret for your safety, Robin. Henry wanted you and Malcolm dead, and he allowed to you to live only on certain terms.”

“King Richard’s deal with King Henry was unfair and outrageous.”

Eleanor let out a morbid sigh. “I don’t deny that, but there was no other way to save you, Robin.”

“Was it really the only option, Your Grace?” He blamed himself for the disgrace of the Gisborne family because all that Eleanor and Richard had done had been done to save him and give him a normal life.

“Yes, the only one,” she confirmed. “I didn’t like what Richard did, but we opted to act so for your sake.”

“You sacrificed the Gisbornes for me,” he affirmed, guilt knifing through him. “Richard sacrificed his one half-brother to save another half-brother.”

“Sacrificed Guy and Isabella?” The queen looked hurt before her expression evolved into blandness. “At least, the Gisborne children were free and alive, though disgraced and ejected from Nottinghamshire.” She released a sigh, struggling to maintain her composure. “I sacrificed my freedom to let you lead a normal life, living in Locksley or in Huntingdon, receiving a stellar education, and being treated in the way befitting a powerful earl.”

He felt a prickle of conscience. “Richard told me that Your Grace had lost the last chance to regain your freedom when King Henry learned the truth about your affair with my father and my existence.”

“That is true, Robin.”

Robin inhaled a deep breath. “I am sorry that I was the reason for so many troubles in Your Grace’s life.”

A vibrant smile of gratitude lit up Eleanor’s face, and her blue eyes sparkled. “You don’t have to ask for forgiveness because it is not your fault.” Her face twisted into cold contempt as she remembered about her husband. “It is only Henry’s fault that we had to sacrifice and suffer a lot.” Her expression softened a bit as she stared at Robin. “The most important thing is that you had what you rightfully deserve: you had a peaceful childhood in Nottingham, the title of the Earl of Huntingdon, and your family’s wealth.”

A fresh guilt pricked his skin like a needle seeking flesh to sink in. He spoke in a despondent voice. “My simple existence caused so many troubles to a great many people.”

“Robin, you are a clever and grown-up man, but now you are behaving like a child.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “How can you blame yourself for your birth? It is an absurd thing!”

Her words sobered Robin. “Maybe I am saying strange things, but I cannot help but feel so.”

There was a long oppressive silence as the Queen Mother and Robin stared at each other; only the distant sounds of the twittering birds in the garden were heard in the chamber.

“Robin, you have a son with Melisende,” Eleanor broke the silence, her gaze penetrating into Robin’s soul. “Would you want your son to die if it suddenly became widely known that there is my blood in his veins? Wouldn’t you do anything to save your son?”

Robin abruptly rose to his feet and went to the window. He stood there, staring into the gardens. He smiled at the sight of the birds in the garden that shimmered in the golden sunlight.

He veered his gaze to her. “I would have done anything for my son Richard. I would have died for him.”

The Queen Mother smiled. “So the argument is over, Robin?”

“Yes, it is, Your Grace.”

“Richard saved you out of love for me, and I sacrificed years of my life to let you stay alive and have a good life,” Eleanor spelled out slowly, making an emphasis on every word. “For every mother, the most important thing is that her child is alive, safe, and content if happiness is not within their grasp.” She slightly raised her voice. “For me, the most important thing is that you are alive.”

“I do really understand you.”

Queen Eleanor rose to her feet and stalked towards the table where two decanters stood. She poured two goblets of wine. “Do you want some wine, Robin? You know that this wine is excellent.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” He stalked from the window to the same table, and she handed to him a full goblet of wine. Then he returned to his chair and seated himself there.   

She settled into her high-back armchair, holding a goblet of wine in her right hand. Her heart jarred with a horrible beat as her mind drifted back to the events of the distant past. “My imprisonment started before Henry had learned the truth about my affair with Malcolm.” She sipped some wine. “In 1170, before the revolt of 1173-1174, all was not well between Henry and me. Our older sons were of age, and the emotional distance between us, their parents, was growing.” She sighed and sipped more wine. “In 1173, I led my three sons in a rebellion against Henry, which surprised him because it was extremely unusual even for a woman like me to do such a thing. But I am convinced that our actions were justified.”

Robin drank some wine. His brow arched, and he inquired, “Justified?”

“Yes.” Eleanor’s gaze was somewhat distant, as if she were again living through all those moments. “Henry Plantagenet was a good and wise ruler, but he was a very bad husband. I spent two decades bearing his children, tolerating his infidelities, and often disagreeing with his decisions.” She laughed acridly. “Worst of all, I had to share the power I had as the Duchess of Aquitaine with Henry after we had created the Angevin Empire. I cannot say that I was very fond of it.” She set a goblet on the small table that stood near her armchair. “Moreover, Henry didn’t want Richard to be Duke of Aquitaine because he favored John and our other sons more than Richard. I could have never allowed Henry to disinherit my Richard.”

He eyed her with respect. “I have always admired your bravery, Your Grace.”

Eleanor’s lips curved in a smile at the warm look which Robin sent her. “It was a fight for Richard, for my other sons, and for my own rights–” Her feelings were too much for speech, and suddenly she broke off abruptly. As her depressing emotions settled, she resumed speaking. “I hoped that my prize would be my beloved Aquitaine: I dreamed of ruling my homeland together with Richard, without Henry. But the rebellion was suppressed; I was captured on the coast and imprisoned by Henry for the next fifteen years.”

“You are a very courageous and strong woman.”

The queen sighed. “You always become especially strong when you have to battle for your survival.”

Robin drained the contents of the goblet. “Your Grace, I want to ask you something special.” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Can you please tell me more about my father and you?”

She was teetering on the brink of refusing, but, after a moment’s pause, she assented, “Certainly, Robin. I know that Richard didn’t tell you any details about our affair with Malcolm.”

Robin stood up and walked over to the table with decanters. “I want to know them if Your Grace deems it possible to grant my wish.” He put an empty goblet there; he didn’t want more wine and, this, didn’t refill the goblet. Then he came back to his chair and seated himself there.

Eleanor looked pensive. Pain ripped through her like vicious fingers tearing at her heart. When she spoke, her voice was flat. “I was eleven years older than Henry when I divorced Louis of France and married Henry of Anjou who was not King of England yet.” She let out a sigh of frustration. “It was a marriage for love for us both, and at first we lived in marital bliss, though not for a long time. Over time, love perished, being supplanted by bitterness, disappointment, and despair.”

Robin felt a dull ache in his chest, for Eleanor’s frankness moved him emotionally. “There is probably nothing worse than living in a miserable marriage.”

The Queen Mother inclined her head in confirmation. “By the time I met Malcolm, my marriage to Henry had already deteriorated. Henry’s urge to know carnally all lovely ladies at our court was unlimited. He betrayed me with all of my ladies-in-waiting and many other women at court, and even with servant and peasant girls. He bedded every woman he considered attractive.” She paused for a moment, studying Robin with a stark intensity in her eyes. “You are aware that my husband also betrayed me with Lady Ghislane of Gisborne, Sir Guy’s mother.” White-hot rage lanced through her, and when she spoke, her voice was slightly shaking with emotion. “My husband humiliated me without any compunction. He paraded his mistresses at court in front of me while I carried his children and swallowed this mortification.”

There was a sympathetic look on his face. “I am sorry that you had to live through that, Your Grace.”

Eleanor’s heart ached at the memories that resurfaced in her mind. “Henry contemplated divorcing me in 1175 to marry Lady Rosamund Clifford. He even had a liaison with young Alix of France, a daughter of Louis and Philippe’s sister; she was betrothed to Richard for many years.”

“I have heard many rumors about these affairs.”

Robin was so deeply touched that he had to forcefully suppress the agitation in his heart. People tittle-tattled that Eleanor had poisoned the fair Rosamund, but he hadn’t believed that until Richard had confessed that they had murdered all those who had been the unwilling keepers of their secret in order to protect Robin. Wicked imaginings of how these people had died flitted through his mind, and a pang of guilt plucked at his heart, but he hurriedly whipped it away. Robin comprehended that it was a matter of the utmost importance to keep his birth a secret, and he couldn't change the past – it was gone.

Eleanor’s eyes held her son pinned, as if they were reading his mind like a book.  She smiled, raising an eyebrow. “You think that I poisoned Rosamund, right?”

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Your Grace, I… meant nothing of that sort.”

“I swear on all I hold sacred that I didn’t poison Rosamund, whatever you believe me or not. I would have never taken a human life if it could have been avoided.”

“I am sorry,” he extended an apology.

“It is alright, Robin,” she said, her expression hard to define. “When our affair started, I was older than Malcolm. He was young and wanted entertainment at court; we were attracted to each other.”

“He wanted the honor of being a queen’s lover,” he added, remembering Malcolm’s words from the dairy.

“Yes.” He hit an especially sore place, and the queen drew in a sharp breath.

A flustered Robin glanced away. “I am sorry if my words were offensive.”

“Robin, please be at ease! There is no need to apologize when you said the gospel truth.”

He gazed back at her. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Eleanor smiled cordially. “You are welcome.” All of a sudden, a fierce scowl crossed her visage. “Your father obviously craved my affections – the Queen of England’s affections.” She had realized that Malcolm had wanted to have a royal lover not right from the start; as she had observed him, she had been getting more confirmations of it. It was one of the many reasons why Eleanor didn’t have any positive feeling for him, except for pity. She thought that the only positive thing that came out of their liaison was Robin.

“I beg your pardon on behalf of my father, Your Grace.”

A glimmer of respect and appreciation flashed in the queen’s eyes, like an unexpected bolt of summer lightning in a cobalt sky. “Malcolm has never been a man of honor.” Her eyes coruscated with pride. “Robin, you are a much better man than your father can ever be.”

A short silence stretched between them. Robin coveted to broach another painful subject, and he said tentatively, “Your Grace, can I ask you one very personal question?”

Eleanor gave a slight nod. “Of course, Robin.”

He sighed and blurted out, “Did you love my father?”

An instant flush mounted to her cheeks. “I cannot lie to you, Robin,” she murmured self-consciously. “I didn’t love Malcolm, but I was charmed by him.” She smiled ever so slightly. “Malcolm was one of the most handsome courtiers. He was charming and well-groomed, clever and intelligent, outspoken and witty. We were soaked in the breathtaking splendor of the court life and entertainments which tempted and seduced us. Finally, we gave in to our passions completely, although it happened between us only a few times.”

Robin dropped his head, unable to meet her intense gaze. “That’s what I thought.”

“Robin, don’t judge us strictly.”

He lifted his eyes to her. “Your Grace, I have no right to judge you,” he answered. “It is just…” He averted his gaze, staring at the tapestry on a nearby wall that depicted two dancing lovers. His mind conjured vivid pictures of Eleanor and his father in bed, and his heart skipped a beat. The truth was bitter but no longer painful, except for one fact – that he wasn’t a child of love but rather a product of lust.

The Queen Mother found herself discomfited, but her face didn’t display her feelings. “It was not a pure physical instinct, Robin,” she offered him to put his mind at ease. “I did care for Malcolm, and he did care for me.” She smiled softly. “When I understood that I was with child, I was sure that I wanted you.” Her expression turned sorrowful as the old pain came back. “But I also knew that I couldn’t raise you as my own son, because no queen can have out of wedlock children.”

Robin’s heart hammered harder in delight. He felt deep sympathy for the lady who apparently loved him and protected him from a distance, through Richard’s invisible hand. He glanced at her with a bright and grateful smile. “Thank you for telling me this. I needed to know that.”

Eleanor felt overwhelmed. The power of her emotions flowed through her like a river that had burst its dam after heavy rainfall. “It was difficult for me to bid farewell to you just in a few hours after your birth, but I had to do that.” She sighed. “I gave you to Malcolm because I wanted to secure a good future for you as the Earl of Huntingdon’s son and heir – lands, title, and the status you deserved from birth.”

“Well, Elizabeth of Locksley and her daughter – my sister – died in childbirth.”

“Their deaths happened on the same day, which helped us replace the children. It was my idea to say that Elizabeth’s child – supposedly you – survived in childbirth.”

Robin concurred. “That was really convenient.”

The queen nodded. “At that time, it seemed to be the best option.” A jolt of ire stabbed through her at the thought of Malcolm. “I couldn’t foresee a future so fraught and seemingly impossible; I couldn’t even consider it. I couldn’t know that Malcolm would obliterate the life we had built for you! But the truth slipped from his tongue, and it was too late to change anything!”

Robin whispered, “Thank you for the candor, Your Grace.” His heart wept for the queen and himself, his lips parted as if he were going to say something else, but no words came out. Nothing would wipe away sad mementos of the tragedies they all had to survive through after the conflagration at Gisborne Manor.

She canted her head, and her glorious blue eyes lit on her face. “Robin, you have changed a lot since our last meeting here, in Poitiers. You became not only older but also wiser and more mature.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Eleanor continued calmly, “You know how dangerous the situation was when the secret about your birth reached Henry’s ears.” She stilled for a moment, watching the shifting emotions on his face. “All that Richard and I did was vital for your safety and your future. We committed some nasty deeds that you probably condemn us for, but if you mull things over, you will realize that we couldn’t choose. Therefore, we chose the lesser of two evils: we couldn’t spare the lives of those who could have backstabbed us. That was necessary for your protection and safety, as well as for England and the whole nation.”

“I wouldn’t have understood that before, but now I do understand.”

“My only wish is to see you safe and content,” the queen stated meaningfully. “Though happiness is the perpetual possession of those who are well-deceived and who live in the world of illusions, one can always be content with what they have.”

Robin shut his eyes for an instant. “The happy days of my life are long gone.”

“No one knows what God will send on our path tomorrow or in a year,” she parried rhetorically; the drone of her voice was soothing. “But He never sends you more than you can endure.”

“Perhaps.”

As always, Eleanor’s wisdom was prescient. She regarded her son with foreboding in her loving eyes, but she also had an instinctive feeling that Robin would find peace. “All happiness you can encounter presents itself to you like a beggar by the roadside. It comes to you in the most unexpected moment.” Her voice rose slightly. “Over time, you will get over the emotional trauma what you survived through in Acre.”

He waggled a brow at her. “Why do you think so, Your Grace?”

The Queen Mother rewarded him with a maternal smile that illuminated her entire appearance and gave a sort of warm, fabulous light and shade to her regal aura. “You are like me in many ways, Robin. Your will is unbreakable, and your bravery is tremendous. Your strength to do good deeds and to refrain from evil comes from the grace and mercy of the Lord who guides you to peace. Regardless of what happens to you, you will eventually find the strength to move on because you are a survivor and a fighter, like me.”

Robin was proud of having a resemblance to her. “Richard told me the same when we talked in Acre.”

Eleanor smiled breezily. “Despite all these changes in you, there is still something untouched in you.”

“Really?” he gasped at her statement.

“Undoubtedly,” she assured him. “I want you to keep the remnants of this innocence in your heart. You are like a breath of fresh air in a world of greedy and selfish desires.”

He remarked glumly, “I begin to doubt that my humanity is something I need to retain.”

She measured him with an incredulous look. “Never say that, Robin. Your humanity, compassion, and innocence make you so very different from others – they make you a unique man.”

“Perhaps,” he said, feeling more confident; he was grateful for her support.

“Robin,” Eleanor called in a deep voice, peculiarly soft and thick with deep emotion, “if you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come to me. “ She smiled almost shyly, as if she were a young maid talking about something improper. It was just a novelty for her to openly display affection for Robin as her son. “I deeply care for you, and you mean a lot to me. I will always listen to you and assist you whenever you need me.”

Robin’s features were alight with gladness. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“To your displeasure, Robin, I have to touch on the topic of your health,” she started cautiously. “If your wound still disturbs you or if you feel worse, we will fetch my personal physician. I mean the same man who treated the wound on your side when you felt unwell on the way back from Acre and stayed at my court for a while. You know that he is an excellent doctor, and his treatment will speed up your recovery.”

Robin grinned. “I remember him well. He greatly helped me last time.” His grin widened. “But a lucky physician is better than a learned one. And if he treats me again, he might be not as lucky as he was before.”

Queen Eleanor shook her head, smiling. “A physician is truly unfortunate if he has to treat a patient suffering from intemperance. If it is not your case, then you won’t need for my doctor’s services.”

Robin smiled, thinking that he inherited Eleanor’s sharp wit. “It won’t be my case.”

“I pray you won’t need him.”

“Thank you,” he said humbly.

She raised a quizzical brow. “For what?”

“For being honest with me. For protecting me for years. For being considerate towards me today.”

Eleanor smiled indulgently. “Richard and I would have gladly done much more for you.” Suddenly, her face darkened. “As for John, you shouldn’t be worried about him. I promise that he will never try to kill you again. We will think of something to protect you from him. Richard will deal will him upon his return.”

“I have always respected you as my queen. I will respect you as my mother too,” he pledged.

Robin was satisfied. There were no turbulent emotions churning in his chest after their heart-to-heart conversation. He couldn’t say that he loved Eleanor as a child loves their mother, but he respected, adored, and admired her. He didn’t know whether he would ever love her as his mother; after all, he had grown up thinking that his mother had died in childbirth. But Robin loved Richard with all his heart, and he admitted that he could grow to love Eleanor in the fullness of time.

Eleanor nodded. “I am glad to hear this.” Then an impish grin curved her mouth. “I believe now it is time for our little bird to fly to your bedroom. Melisende must be waiting for you.”

A smiling Robin sighed in contentment. “With your permission, Your Grace.” He climbed to his feet and bowed deeply; then he strode towards the door. He paused at the doorway and bowed to her again, showing his respect for her; then he quitted the chamber.

Queen Eleanor sat quiet, looking into space, happy tears shining in her eyes. Robin knew the truth, but he neither loathed her nor condemned her. Eleanor wasn’t sure that Robin would ever love her as much as she did love him since the moment when she had taken him in her arms as an infant. She only hoped that they would be bond with one another and become close friends, like Robin and Richard were.

§§§

Guy of Gisborne was shocked when he received a personal invitation to an exclusive private feast in the ducal apartments in the Maubergeonne Tower. At first, he thought that it was a joke and didn’t want to go, but Robin insisted that he attend the feast, for it wasn’t polite to reject the Queen Mother’s invitation. Archer, Allan, and Marian were not invited while all Robin’s war comrades were.

Guy was a little late for the feast. As a herald announced his arrival, Guy entered, advancing on tiptoe, as if he apprehended some danger, and he glanced around uneasily. The spacious chamber was decorated with unheard-of splendor. It was only a private evening, and there were not more twenty guests in attendance. The feast didn’t begin yet, although the Queen Mother, Robin, and Robin’s friends were already there.

Guy saw the main table that was served for four people and located in the distant part of the chamber; Robin occupied the place at Eleanor’s right, and there was an empty place at her left. The queen’s table stood separately from the other two tables lined along the walls; all the other courtiers occupied the places at those tables; the arrangement of the tables puzzled Guy.

“Sir Guy of Gisborne, we have been awaiting only you,” Queen Eleanor proclaimed in a high voice in Norman–French, looking at Guy. “Please take a seat next to us as a guest of honor.”

A deathly hush fell over a congregation of the guests. It was a great honor to be invited to Eleanor’s private festivities, but it was even more exclusive to be declared a guest of honor at such a feast. Nobody expected that Vaisey’s former right-hand man would be suddenly elevated to such a high position at the queen’s court. Roger de Lacy, who loathed Guy, eyed Guy with a comic air of displeasure about him; Robert de Beaumont was simply shocked; only Robin looked calm, as if he had known about that beforehand.

A perplexed Guy was unable to move for a moment; each pair of eyes was glued to him. “A guest of honor?” he uttered at last. He kept looking at the Queen Mother until the lady’s face split into a wide smile.

Eleanor gave a firm nod. “Sir Guy, would you be so kind to take a seat?” she requested, her eyes dancing with mischief. “We believe that it would be impolite to postpone the feast.”

Guy nodded wordlessly. The servant accompanied him to the table, and he bowed to the queen. “Your Grace,” he greeted politely. Then he seated himself at Eleanor’s left.

Robin slightly bowed to Guy in accordance with the etiquette without rising from his chair. “Good evening, Lord Gisborne,” he said in an official manner. “I trust you are doing fine.”

“Lord Huntingdon, I am happy to see you in good health; hopefully, in better spirits too,” Guy responded blandly. Looking at Robin’s inscrutable face, he found himself unable to understand what was going on.

“If the two of you finished exchanging pleasantries, then we can begin the feast,” Eleanor declared.

Queen Eleanor snapped her fingers, and several footmen in red and yellow livery entered the chamber and headed to the table, bringing decanters of wine and silver trays with platters of French food. In a few moments, the table and sideboards were heavily laden with platters of chicken, oysters, duck, goose, ham, jellied consommés, salads, and many other delicacies. There was a huge number of bowls overflowing with partridges in aspic, exotic fruits, vegetables, and herbs. The served wine was from Queen Eleanor’s exclusive collection and had been produced in the Loire Valley.

Eleanor waved her ringed hand impatiently, signaling a moment of silence. “Everyone knows that Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and Count de Bordeaux, is now at our court,” she promulgated, looking at Robin with a warm smile. “We consider Robin of Locksley a guest of honor tonight. The court shines with a divine glow and brightness when he is with us.”

Guy supressed a laugh as he noticed that all eyes riveted on Robin, looks of fascination and adoration flashing across the guests’ faces. Everyone admired and glorified Robin Hood, calling him the king’s savior and the greatest hero of England. However, Guy discovered an annoyed look on Robin’s face, thinking that, obviously, Robin didn’t want to be the center of attention and didn’t need fame.

“Oh,” Robin breathed. Eleanor and Guy heard it; Eleanor made no comments, and Guy smiled.

Guy’s gaze embraced the room. The private feast was a banquet of unlimited extravagance. The court life in Poitiers was unprecedentedly opulent, and the lifestyle very lavish. The feast was organized with a better taste than many regular lavish banquets at Prince John’s court which Guy had often attended in the past. Even though John tried to make his court in London grander than his mother’s, he failed to achieve that.

The Queen Mother waved her hand for silence. “My dear friends, today we have gathered here to greet Sir Guy of Gisborne at our court,” she articulated in a high voice as she swept her eyes over the nobles. “We owe Sir Guy an enormous debt of gratitude for his invaluable contribution to collecting the funds for the release of our glorious Lionheart. Our king’s freedom is in the limelight of our passionate commitment to bring peace to England and the Angevin Empire!” She paused for a moment, her gaze drifting to Guy. “We also have to thank Sir Guy for the salvation of Sir Robin of Locksley’s life at Pontefract Castle when Sir Robin, Sir Guy, and other brave men fought for their rightful king and queen.”

Robin smirked at Guy, whose face evolved into sheer amazement. The guests cast a mixture of envious and astounded glances at Guy; tomorrow Guy’s privileged position would become sensational.

Guy flicked his gaze to Queen Eleanor. “Your Grace, I thank you for your generosity.”

Eleanor smiled at Guy, but her reserved smile was not like all the lustrous smiles she flashed towards Robin and King Richard’s favorites. “Sir Guy, I said the truth,” she stated, dropping the protocol, her tone more personal. “I thank you for the salvation of Robin’s life.” Her eyes flew to Robin. “Without you, Robin would have died after his friend had sacrificed his life to save Robin and Lady Marian.”

Robin dropped his gaze to his half-empty platter. As the scene of Much’s death resurfaced in his mind, a searing pain ripped through his entire being, a white-hot inferno of suffering. An unexpected sense of urgency filled him: he was consumed with the desire to leave the festivities, to find some cloistered place in the palace, and to give vent to all his frustration. Steeling himself against the impulse of escaping, Robin glanced at Guy and affirmed, “I already thanked you, Guy. Now I am doing this again.”

Guy’s expression changed into sympathy. “Robin, I am sorry that Much died.”

“Thank you.” Robin raised a goblet of wine to his mouth, but he didn’t take a sip. He stared into the red liquid, instinctively associating it with Much’s blood.

As he ate and drank, Guy attempted to relax and enjoy the feast, but he couldn’t. He had been at the royal court in Poitiers only once, when he had accompanied Vaisey there to find one of Richard’s knights for assassination. The problem was that any royal court, especially the court in Poitiers with Queen Eleanor as a hostess, reminded Guy of three things – Ghislane of Gisborne’s affair with King Henry, the opprobrium of the Gisbornes, and the dark secret of the past which he was obliged to keep forever.

Eleanor gave Guy a wry smile. “I hope you like the feast.”

Guy looked at Eleanor. “The feast is great, Your Grace.” Although Eleanor treated him very well and flashed sweet smiles, he guessed that she was trying to maintain a veneer of politeness.

The queen smirked. “Do you like the court in Aquitaine more than John’s court in London, Sir Guy?” she inquired, drinking wine in a slow, aristocratic manner. “You worked as Lord Vaisey’s right-hand man for so many years. You surely visited many courts many times.”

Guy almost choked on his wine. “No court can rival Your Grace’s court in Poitiers.”

Queen Eleanor tilted her head to one side, her eyes surveying him with a sharp scrupulosity. “But you are not fond of life at court.” She emptied the goblet of wine. “I understand you, Sir Guy. Of course, you cannot forget about your mother’s love affair with my Henry.”

Guy felt the beads of perspiration on his brow. “I would never forget about it.” His eyes went to Robin, his gaze begging the younger man for some nonverbal explanation, but Robin ignored Guy.

“I do remember Lady Ghislane de Bailleul very well,” Eleanor spoke about her erstwhile acquaintance.  “Lady Ghislane was a very beautiful lady, with long raven hair and expressive steel blue eyes, like your eyes, Sir Guy. Although she grew up in Normandy in one of the many de Bailleul estates, she had impeccable court manners and a rigorous education like that of my ladies-in-waiting which they receive at my court. Her mother, Lady Aegida de Bailleul, raised her as a truly genteel lady and invested heavily in her education, hiring excellent teachers for her and seeking my advice about candidates for these roles.”

Guy looked interested, for he had never known such things about his mother’s youth. “I have never known that my grandmother, Aegida, was so close to Your Grace.”

Eleanor smiled with a touch of fondness, but that smile quickly evaporated from her face like a mist. “Aegida was my friend in my early youth, Sir Guy. I still remember her very well; she was a tall and handsome girl from Normandy, well-educated for her station in life, although she often dissolved into tears in public. Ghislane was a stronger woman, but, most importantly, her heart was not as cold as Aegida’s.”

Pain blossomed in Guy’s heart, and he stifled a scream of anguish. He took some time to respond. “I cannot say that I share your fond memories of my grandmother. She didn’t treat Isabella and me as her grandchildren when we arrived in Normandy from England.” He had never liked his grandmother who had thrown Isabella and him out of the castle in the dead of night, under the drizzling rain, after his relatives had learned about the infamy of the Gisbornes and about Roger’s leprosy.

Robin stopped eating a large piece of fish; he lost his appetite at the thought of how much Guy had suffered in Normandy. Looking at his former enemy, he interposed in a guilt-laced voice, “Guy, I am sorry that you had to suffer in Normandy a lot. I know that it is partly my fault.”

Guy smiled at Robin. “It is not your fault, Robin.”

“It is partly my fault,” Robin insisted, sighing deeply. “I should have stood up for you and Isabella when Bailiff Longthorn banished you from Locksley.”

Guy heaved a grievous sigh. “It is a very old story. We must forget about it for our own sake.” Although they reconciled with Robin and even considered himself in debt for his life to his former enemy, he was surprised to hear these words from Robin.

“It is only Henry’s fault,” Eleanor put the end to their little argument. “And we all know that.”

“Yes,” Robin whispered.

“Holy Mother of God!” Guy growled. “It is only his fault!”

Guy drew a sibilant breath, and every muscle in his body tied into a tight knot of anger and frustration. The thoughts of King Henry stirred a demonic fury inside Guy. He hated his natural father since the day when he had learned the secret of his true parentage from King Richard. He would never forgive the old king for disgracing Ghislane and for treating her like a whore, for ordering her banishment from court in the most demeaning way – Ghislaine had been thrown out of a castle with all her things in the dark of the night. He would never forgive his real father, the dead king, and Richard for making a wicked deal to sacrifice Guy’s wellbeing for Robin’s happiness. As he associated all courts with so many tragic events in his life, Guy felt as if he were an extraneous body among laughing and chatting courtiers.

“Be careful, Sir Guy,” Eleanor demanded, sending both Robin and Guy a warning glare.

Robin released a sigh. “Nobody heard us.”

They were talking very quietly and sat separately from other guests, so nobody could eavesdrop.

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Guy muttered under his breath.

Eleanor looked sympathetic. “Don’t worry about trifles, Sir Guy. I can imagine what a great shock you must have received after Richard had told you something important in Acre.” She leaned closer to Guy’s ear and whispered, “It must have been difficult for you to learn that Sir Roger of Gisborne wasn’t your father.”

“Yes,” Guy managed to say.

The queen’s gaze oscillated between Robin and Guy. “We all know what we can say and what must be buried forever.” With elegance and grace, she took a goblet of wine which Robin had filled for her a moment ago. “I think you know what you can do and what you cannot, Sir Guy.”

Guy felt numbness overcoming him. “Certainly, Your Grace. But why are you telling me this?”

“I am just reminiscing about the past.” Eleanor’s face changed into serious concentration. “You know many things, but not those related to Ghislane. I thought that you would be glad to learn more.”

Guy couldn’t deny that it was a tempting thing for him. “I would be grateful, Your Grace.”

“Very well, Sir Guy.” Eleanor brought a sweet cake to her lips and nibbled it; she was quiet for a moment, eating and chewing. Then she went on. “I liked Aegida de Bailleul, but she always cared much more about the reputation of the de Bailleul family than her own children and other relatives.” She shrugged. “She invested in the education of her two daughters only because she wanted to marry them off to the richest suitors in Henry’s lands. She dreamt of marrying Ghislane to a man like Sir Robert de Beaumont, 3rd Earl of Leicester.” Her eyes flew to Robin. “I mean the father of our dear Robert.”

“I see,” Robin said absently. He listened to them halfheartedly, drinking wine but not eating.

Guy frowned. “That is a surprise for me.”

A sigh tumbled from Eleanor’s lips. “Ghislane had many suitors who courted her and wanted to wed her not only for her beauty but also for her family’s wealth and connections. After all, she was born to the family of the old and rich Norman nobles. Like the de Beaumont, the de Mowbray, the de Clare, the de Crépon, the de Lacy, the de Montfort, the de Neville, and some other powerful families, the de Bailleul family is a powerful and respected clan in our empire.” She sighed, sipping some wine. “Aegida wanted your mother to have a high-ranking and rich nobleman as a husband.”

“I can imagine how much she wanted to ship my mother off.” Guy’s disdain and resentment for his grandmother were increasing.

The queen continued to reminisce about Guy’s ancestors. “Aegida almost got what she wanted when Ghislane accepted the marriage proposal of a young and rich English nobleman. She didn’t like that this man was a Saxon lord, but Ghislane was fond of him,” she informed, looking at Guy’s befuddled face. “I assume that you, Sir Guy, have never known that your mother had been betrothed to young Sir Hugh Bennet of Attenborough, who had been my loyal knight and then loyalty served Richard.”

Guy sighed. “I never knew that.”

Eleanor elaborated, “Sir Hugh broke the engagement when Ghislane had become Henry’s mistress. Later Sir Hugh married one of my ladies-in-waiting, Megan’s mother; you know whom I mean.”

“This is all so surprising.” Guy knew that Hugh Bennet had always been sympathetic to him, and Megan corroborated that. But he had never known about Ghislane’s betrothal to Hugh.

The queen’s expression changed into sadness. “Ghislaine could have had a brilliant future if she hadn’t started her liaison with my husband. Her relatives banned her from her family for disgracing herself, and Aegida harshly upbraided Ghislane for her extramarital relationship with Henry.”

“It was not only my mother’s fault,” Guy remarked.

The Queen Mother confirmed with a nod, “My husband seduced her, like many other women.” She gave Guy a smile. “I liked Ghislane despite the fact that she was my husband’s mistress. I even found a suitor for her when Henry discarded her… because of the false rumors about her supposed infidelity to the king. Those rumors were spread by Lord Peter Vaisey, your former master.”

“Vaisey,” Guy spat. “This man caused too much harm to others.” He noticed Robin stiffen.

“Indeed.” Eleanor’s expression twisted into aversion. “Lord Peter Vaisey has always been a disgusting little man. I remember him gallivanting around our court like a peacock. A son of a landless knight, he had nothing to offer any woman and had few opportunities to win a patch of land, but he coveted to have wealth and power.” She stopped, wondering whether she should say some things to Guy; then she spoke again. “However, my impression was that Vaisey loved Ghislane and truly wanted to marry her.”

“It doesn’t justify him. He was the reason for my mother’s disgrace,” Guy hissed.

“Yes, Sir Guy,” Eleanor agreed.

Guy’s lips were arranged in a wan smile. “I am very grateful to Your Grace for helping my mother in that dire situation.”

The queen smiled cryptically. “And I am going to help you, Sir Guy, like I helped your mother.”

“What do you mean, Your Grace?” a slightly alarmed Guy questioned.

“There is something you will have to do for Richard and for me,” Eleanor supplied.

Guy glanced at Robin wrathfully, knowing that the other man knew something; then he veered his gaze to Eleanor. “What, Your Grace?” he asked.

“Ah, Sir Guy, you are so straightforward, and this is not very diplomatic on your part,” the queen taunted. “Sometimes bluntness might be tantamount to an offense and even an act of treason.”

“Your Grace, what about music tonight?” Guy asked, changing the topic drastically.

“In a due time.” The queen finished eating roasted chicken and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

For a while, Queen Eleanor left her place at the main table and was immediately surrounded by her admirers. She was engaged in a lively conversation about her return to Poitiers and about King Richard.

§§§

The banqueting went on and on, no one wishing to abandon food and drink too soon. Many toasts were drunk to the health of both Robin and Guy. Guy spoke to a few people, none of them being Robin’s close friends; Robin was silent and simply sat beside the Queen Mother, as if he were waiting for the end of the banquet to retire to his quarters. Once Robert de Beaumont spoke to Guy, thanking him for the salvation of Robin’s life; Roger de Lacy also overlooked his disgust for Guy and thanked him.

Queen Eleanor returned and seated herself in her high-back chair. She surveyed Robin, giving him her most dazzling smile; Robin smiled back at her. Then her eyes focused on Guy, and she smiled at him slyly.

Melisende appeared near the table and sank into an entrancing curtsey in front of Queen Eleanor. Guy found Robin’s wife looking stunningly beautiful in her gown of heavy golden-violet brocade, stiff with gold and silver embroidery, with a low square-cut neckline and a long silk train, the neckline adorned with amethysts and topazes. Eleanor smiled at her niece heartily and motioned her to take a seat next to Robin. Melisende nodded at Guy and then landed in a chair near her husband.

Guy looked around, wondering where Megan was tonight. As Eleanor’s lady-in-waiting, she had to attend this private feast, but Guy couldn’t see her among the guests. After his arrival in Poitiers, he talked to Megan only once in the corridor; they saw each other a few times, but she only nodded at him and hastily glanced away. He was disappointed that Megan treated him so coldly after their reunion in Aquitaine, for he missed everything about her, from her hot temper to her sassy short retorts and her feisty speeches.

Melisende turned to face Guy. “Sir Guy,” she began, smiling at him.

Guy bowed slightly. “Lady Melisende,” he said politely.

“Welcome to the court in Poitiers,” Melisende stated. “I hope you are enjoying your stay here.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Guy discovered that he liked Melisende more than before.

“You are welcome, Sir Guy,” Melisende replied. “If you need something, you can always ask me for help.”

“Did you see Lady Megan Bennet here?” Guy questioned.

Melisende smiled enigmatically. “Meg will come here soon. You will see her tonight.”

Eleanor took a goblet of wine and raised it to her lips. A hush fell over the chamber as all the guests waited for the Queen Mother to make a toast.

The queen smiled. “To Sir Robin of Locksley who saved our king in Acre many times over!” Then she sipped wine, her gaze fixed on Robin who stared back at her with an impudent grin on his face.

“To Sir Robin of Locksley!” the guests chorused.

A short interlude followed, and several servants served more food and drinks.

“To Sir Guy of Gisborne who helped us collect funds for our king’s ransom!” Eleanor proclaimed. She swung her gaze to Guy whose expression was priceless.

The guests looked shocked with the announcement, but they obediently drank to Guy’s health. That was the validation of Guy’s high favor with Richard and Eleanor.

“To Sir Guy of Gisborne!” the courtiers echoed. 

It was almost the end of the feast, and the Queen Mother told one of her ladies to go out and invite the troubadours to come and sing for them. Troubadours usually sang before or during the meal, while the performances during the feast were left to jongleurs, who juggled, conjured, danced, or played music.

Guy’s heart pounded harder as he saw Megan chatting with one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting. Guy watched her discreetly arrange the skirts of her stunning white gown with bell-shaped sleeves that were tight to the elbow and then airy to the wrists. He let his eyes dwell over Megan’s neck, lingering his gaze on a softly glowing pearl and diamonds necklace; then his gaze drifted to her lovely face that was breathing with life and delight. Numerous gold braids were weaved into her long, dark, loose hair; the gold-embroidered headdress on her head glowed in the orange candlelight.

As Megan began to stalk towards Queen Eleanor, Guy noticed that the color came and went to her cheeks; he guessed whether she was just anxious about the prospect of meeting with him or about something else. Megan walked slowly, measuring her footsteps, with a proud air about her, as if she had just conquered the whole world. Megan was every inch a seasoned courtier.

Megan stopped and curtsied to the Queen Mother. “Your Grace, I am sorry that I am a little late for the festivities. I hope you will forgive me this delay,” she said with a sweet smile, pleased to see her mistress. Then she nodded at Robin and smiled at Melisende. She cast a brief glance at Guy and looked away.

Queen Eleanor smiled at her young confidante. “Meg, you know that I can forgive you many things.”

Megan smiled faintly. “I humbly thank you, Your Grace.”

Eleanor chuckled. “You are not the only one who was late, my darling.” She gazed between Guy and Megan. “Sir Guy was also a bit late for this banquet organized in his honor.”

Megan flicked her gaze to Guy, her face impenetrable. “I hope you are enjoying the evening, Sir Guy.”

Guy smiled at her coolly. “I am enjoying it immensely, Lady Megan.” He understood why she had to be formal in the Queen Mother’s presence, but he distinguished the absence of ease and lightness which usually existed between them. Her behavior puzzled Guy.

“With your permission,” Megan whispered, curtsying again and taking a step back.

Melisende rose to her feet. “Aunt Eleanor, we are leaving.”

Eleanor nodded. “Good luck, my dear.”

The doors flung open, and a middle-aged handsome man walked in. He wore an eccentric doublet made out of yellow brocade and ornamented with topazes. Despite the fact that he wasn’t young, there was an air of youthful impetuosity and careless gaiety about him. Then several musicians entered.

Laughing, Megan and Melisende came to the newcomer; the Earl of Leicester strode towards them. They stopped in the center of the chamber, and everyone stared at them in fascination.

Guy looked at Eleanor. “What is going to happen now, Your Grace?”

“This man is _Andreas Capellanus_ ,” Queen Eleanor told Guy. “He has long been a courtier of my dear daughter, Marie de Champagne; he is French. He wrote the illustrious _De Amore_ for my daughter’s court, but from time to time he comes to Aquitaine at my request.”

“My wife and Meg will perform,” Robin said shortly.

Guy hadn’t grown up at court, but Ghislane had taught him lessons of impeccable manners; she had told him many things about courtly love. He recalled that _De Amore_  portrayed the social and intimate life of Queen Eleanor's court and devoted much time to the main concept of courtly love.

The musicians began to play long, melodic notes, and Andreas Capellanus began singing in his soft, melodic voice in Occitan. Then Capellanus lapsed into silence as the preface of _De Amore_  began. Robert de Beaumont knelt in front of Melisende and Megan, and they started singing in Occitan.

Robert stared up at Megan and Melisende, his eyes glowing with passion. _“I am a new soldier of love, wounded with a new arrow_.” He outstretched his arms. _“Oh, my muses! Teach me how to aptly to govern the reins of the horse that I am riding! Teach me how to find remedy from love before I die from love!”_ Then he stilled, looking at the ladies for whom he sang while smiling at them animatedly.

“ _Oh, my knight, there is no remedy from love!_ ” Megan sang, looking into Robert’s eyes and smiling.

Melisende stared at Robert, her violet eyes glowing with a blinding luster. “ _A man in love is always apprehensive! You cannot die from rejection!_ ”

Capellanus approached Robert and helped him rise, but Robert pushed the maestro away.

 _“Oh, my knight,”_ Capellanus sang in Occitan. “ _I will show you the way in which a state of love between you and one of these ladies, your two lovers may be kept unharmed, and likewise how those who do not love may get rid of the darts of Venus that are in their hearts.”_

Guy observed Robert shake his head and turn to Megan and Melisende. When Robert took Megan’s hand in his and planted a kiss there, a pang of hellish jealousy stab through Guy’s heart, burning him with flames of hell; he wished to rush to Leicester and shield Megan from the earl. Guy sighed with relief when Robert shifted on his knees towards Melisende and took her hand in his, staring into her eyes and kissing her hand.

Queen Eleanor glanced at Robin. “Robin, why are you not performing today? You have always loved such theatrical performances during my musical evenings.”

Robin sighed. “I don’t feel well enough to stand on my knees even before my wife.”

A look of worry crossed Eleanor’s face. “Is your wound disturbing you again?”

Guy turned his gaze to Robin. “Robin, are you alright?”

Robin forced a smile. “I prefer to be careful today.”

“Maybe you should leave,” Eleanor offered.

Robin shook his head resolutely. “No.”

“Fine,” Eleanor acquiesced. “You will see my physician tonight.”

Robin smiled at the Queen Mother with gratitude. He didn’t mind being examined because the pain in his already healed wound again intensified in the past few nights.

“Take care of yourself, Robin,” Guy advised.

“I will,” Robin said with a smile.

Guy swung his gaze to Megan and Melisende who still stood in the middle of the room. They started the second performance of _De Amore_ devoted to the discussions of ‘ _What love is’._ Robert no longer was on his knees: instead, he stood near the two ladies, holding Megan’s left hand and Melisende’s right hand and talking to them in Occitan. As Guy understood Occitan quite well, he could easily realize that Melisende played a merchant’s daughter while Megan was a princess. Robert displayed his affection towards both of them, singing to them in a seductive voice about their unfading beauty.

Eleanor elucidated, “Melisende and Meg have roles of women from different social classes. Robert woos them, but he has to choose only one lover in the end.”

Guy felt jealousy burning him from the inside out. “What will happen when a knight makes a choice?”

“The next act of the performance will follow,” Eleanor answered. “The third performance will be devoted to ‘ _Judgements of love’_ , when love is established and is being developed with a chosen lover.”

Robin sniggered. “I think that Robert won’t choose Melisende.” He knew about Leicester’s love affair with Melisende, but he trusted his wife and his best friend enough not to feel jealous.

Eleanor smiled archly. “Sir Guy, will you be jealous if Robert chooses Meg?”

“No, I won’t. Why should I be?” Guy shook his head, as if in denial. His eyes were glued to Megan and Robert who were looking at each other with sweet smiles while being embroiled in an argument about love.

She looked at Megan; then her eyes flew to Guy. “Sir Guy, what do you think of Meg?”

“Meg is an amazing girl,” Guy admitted without any hesitation, an affectionate hovering over his lips. “She saved my life when we were imprisoned in Nottingham. I am very grateful to her.”

Eleanor suppressed an inappropriate urge to chuckle. “Very good,” she drawled. “Then you will be able to do your duty to your king and England with pleasure, not under duress.”

Guy was nonplussed. “Your Grace, I have no clue as to the meaning of your words.”

The queen looked into Guy’s eyes. “I will be straightforward with you, Sir Guy. Richard and I want you to wed Megan. You will also have to serve in Richard’s army in Normandy.”

Guy felt his hand trembling, and he slammed the goblet on the table. “Why, Your Grace?”

“You have to prove your loyalty to Richard,” the queen explained. “You swore your fealty to my son in Acre, and you have done some good things for Richard since then. But that is not enough.”

Guy inquired in a tone of shock and wonderment, “Why?”

The Queen Mother snapped her fingers, and, all at once, Sir William de Longchamp appeared near the table; he was carrying a rolled parchment. Eleanor pointed her finger at Guy, and de Longchamp handed the parchment to him. Then the man bowed and hastened to retire to another table.

“Open it,” Eleanor commanded.

With trembling hands, Guy broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. There was a long list of unknown names written there. “Who are all these people?”

“There are more than twenty-five names in the list,” the royal lady asserted coldly.

All the color drained from Guy’s cheeks. “Who are all these people?”

“They are all dead!” Queen Eleanor snorted, her eyes glittering ferociously. “These poor men were killed by Vaisey and you under the orders of Henry and John.” Her voice went down and became a hissing of a serpent. “They all were either Richard’s loyal knights or my knights. Some of them were my friends.”

A look of disbelief suffused Guy’s visage. “That cannot be true.”

“That is true,” Eleanor reasserted.

“How do you know that?” Guy never knew the men whom he had killed under Vaisey’s orders.

“Do you doubt the queen’s word?” she countered him.

“Guy,” Robin said, his brows furrowed; he feared that the other man would cross a line.

A sigh tumbled from Guy’s lips. “I do apologize, Your Grace.”

“You are forgiven, Sir Guy.” Eleanor took the parchment from Guy’s hands. “Sir William de Longchamp conducted an investigation into your case at Richard’s secret request because Richard wanted to know whom he pardoned in Acre,” she enlightened in a tight voice. “We didn’t know that you had assassinated a great many of our loyal knights before the investigation.” She put the parchment on the table. “Richard would have pardoned you in any case because Robin asked him about it on his deathbed. Now, when we know how grave your crimes against England, your king, and your queen were, we demand recompense: we make you prove your loyalty to us, pay your penance, and show your repentance. Richard pardoned you, but in our eyes, you weren’t vindicated of the criminal charges that might be leveled against you.”

Guy cast a helpless glance at Robin, but the hero only shrugged in response.

“I don’t know… what to say…” Guy stammered.

“Say nothing and do your duty,” the Queen Mother insisted, and a feral grin curved her mouth.

Guy was confused. “Why do I have to marry exactly Meg?”

Eleanor said with a smile, “Sir Hugh Bennet, Meg’s father, was Richard’s beloved knight. He served me and Richard devotedly and loyally. Thus, any association with Meg is equivalent to that with Richard.”

“Are you serious, Your Grace?” Guy struggled to digest the news.

“Yes,” Eleanor confirmed. “I have known Meg for many years. She has always been independent, and Sir High was afraid that she would never find a suitable husband; he had never pressured her to marry.” She sighed. “Sir Hugh died, and now she is Richard’s ward.” She smiled. “Now Sir Hugh’s lands belong to his only daughter, so you will inherit those lands and ample wealth by marrying my dear Meg.”

Guy slid his gaze to Megan. The performance of the second part was finished. Robert chose Megan as his lover; Melisende no longer stood near them and took her place at Robin’s side.

“ _I cannot marry, you!_ ” Megan cried out regrettably. “ _I am a princess, and you are a mere knight!_ ”

Robert clutched Megan’s hand, his expression imbued with despondency. “ _My beloved, marriage is no real excuse for not loving! I will never leave you! I cannot live without you!”_ He kissed her hand tenderly. “ _The easy attainment of love makes it of little value; difficulty of attainment makes it prized._ ”

Eleanor laughed. “Meg deserves to pose as a princess for one evening.”

“Probably,” Guy whispered.

Guy took a sharp intake of breath; his gut clenched to painful tightness. He turned his frantic eyes to Megan again, and his heart hammered harder, for she looked almost unearthly beautiful in a flawless way. The only thing that he hated was Robert de Beaumont’s closeness to her. Guy could see quiet words of lament fell from her lips as Robert and Megan began to sing in Occitan.

Guy averted his gaze; his throat tightened with emotion. “I cannot marry her against her will.”

The Queen Mother leaned back against her seat, her eyes fixed on Megan. “Megan already knows what Richard commands. She will gladly do her duty to her king and England.”

“But… but…” Guy’s voice halted, and his shoulders shook.

“You will be grateful to Richard and me later,” Eleanor claimed, the corners of her lips arching in a smile. “Meg is a unique lady. She is intelligent, beautiful, fiery, honest, and independent. You cannot imagine how many suitors she rejected.” She laughed. “She has been waiting for the right man to fall in love with.”

“You are most kind, Your Grace,” Guy parried sarcastically.

Eleanor smirked. “Everything for you and my Meg.”

“And if I don’t wed Meg?” Guy asked cautiously.

The Queen Mother studied him closely. “You are a clever man, Sir Guy. You know that stakes are very high.” She bent her head so that she could whisper into his ear. “There is something that ties you to the Plantagenet family. That’s why Richard and I want to be sure that you will never betray us.”

Guy needed to know. “Is it the only way for me to prove my loyalty?”

Eleanor smiled with an odd smile, and a dangerous glint came into her eyes. “Sir Guy, Richard and I don’t want to take… some drastic measures in order to make sure that something… will never slip from your tongue. So we have to do something, and you have to obey without questioning. Don’t test us!”

Robin’s gaze was oscillating between Eleanor and Guy. “I don’t like it, but I… can understand.” He smiled somewhat uneasily. “It is for England’s safety. Too many lives are at stake.”

The queen took Robin’s hand in hers, and her son didn’t resist. She smiled bewitchingly, and Robin smiled back affectionately. “You see, Sir Guy, Robin does agree with us.”

Guy nodded wordlessly and swallowed heavily. Eleanor’s words were enough to realize that King Richard was serious in his intentions to marry Guy off to Megan. He didn’t know what to do.

§§§

The next part of the performance was about ‘ _the Rejection of Love’._ Robert stood near Megan on his knees, as they talked passionately about love, marriage, deceits, and passion. Andreas Capellanus stood beside the two of them, teaching them the ways to reconcile and find something more than love. Robert sang over and over again how completely untrustworthy women were.

Megan turned her head away from Robert. “ _I don’t need your affections, my knight_.”

“ _Everything a woman says is said with the intention of deceiving,”_ Robert cried out in despair, pressing his hand to his heart. “ _My heart is bleeding! I am dying from unrequited love!_ ”

Capellanus approached the couple and stood between them, shielding them from one another. “ _Young man, you will win an eternal recompense and thereby deserve a greater reward from God!_ ”

Megan curtsied to Robert, then spun around and ambled away from the knight whom she had just rejected. Robert lowered his head dismally, playing a suffering rejected lover.  The performance was over, and the chamber exploded with applause.

All at once, Guy’s jaw dropped in awe as Robin took Melisende’s hand in his and began singing; strictly speaking, Melisende was singing, and Robin was supporting her. They were performing the song “ _Mout jauzens me prenc en amar_ ” composed by William IX, Duke of Aquitaine, Eleanor of Aquitaine’s grandfather. The musicians appeared on the balcony.

_Mout jauzens me prenc en amar_

_Un joy don plus mi vuelh aizir,_

_E pus en joy vuelh revertir_

_Ben dey, si puesc, al mielhs anar,_

_Quar mielhs onra 'm, estiers cujar,_

_Qu'om puesca vezer ni auzir._

“ _Great the joy that I take in love; a joy where I can take my ease, and then in joy turn as I please, once more with the best I move, for I am honored, she’s above the best that man can hear or see_ ,” Guy silently translated for himself, thinking Robin was singing for his wife.

_Ieu, so sabetz, no 'm dey gabar_

_Ni de grans laus n 'm say formir,_

_Mas si anc nulhs joys poc florir,_

_Aquest deu sobre totz granar_

_E part los autres esmerar,_

_Si cum sol brus jorns esclarzir._

Guy chuckled merrily as Melisende and Robin began to sing the next worse. “ _You know I wouldn't boast of power nor claim for me a lot of praise, but if a joy's to be upraised, the seed will come and then the flower  to shine above and overpower as when the sun bursts from a haze_.”

“Don’t be so astonished, Sir Guy,” Eleanor spoke flatly. “Robin is at my court. He is relaxing.”

“Of course.” Guy nodded.

She smiled. “Richard’s voice is better than Robin’s, but Robin can support the performance.”

“I have never heard King Richard singing.” Guy missed several more verses, his mind empty.

“Go find Meg,” the queen recommended.

Queen Eleanor nodded at one of the stewards, and a group of musicians entered. There were minstrels and jongleurs among them, who immediately positioned themselves near the queen’s table and prepared to give the guests the sentiment of courtly love.

Guy rose to his feet and went to Megan who sat on a velvet-covered chair in a lonely and semi-dark alcove in the opposite part of the chamber. The initial shock after Queen Eleanor’s declaration was gone, and Guy could again think clearly. As she already knew about the marriage which Queen Eleanor arranged for her, it would make things easier for him; he had a lot to discuss with Megan.

“Good evening, Meg,” Guy said, looking at her in fascination as he landed onto a nearby chair.

Megan turned to Guy, her expression impassive. Yet, a dark blue flame flared up in her eyes, flickering and suddenly extinguishing; it was the flame of her feelings for him, which she tried to conceal. “I didn’t expect that you would come to me, Guy. Why do you need me? How can I help you?”

Guy arched a brow. “Tell me why I cannot want to talk to you?”

“How can I help you?” she repeated coldly.

“I really wanted to see you, Meg,” he said those words to him with a sweet whisper.

“Why?” Her eyes widened in amazement.

Guy smiled at her tenderly. “I just wanted that.”

Megan’s face twisted into exaggerated shock. “Oh, I was so dim-witted! I should have known that!”

Guy looked utterly stupefied before recovering his confidence. “Meg, you and I have a lot to discuss.”

She laughed. “I know what you are going to say.”

“And what it is?”

She huffed in annoyance. “Queen Eleanor had already informed me about King Richard’s intention, Guy. They want to coerce you into marriage to someone who is trusted by them and has an unwavering loyalty to them. They chose me because of my father’s staunch loyalty to them.”

“It looks like it is the king’s final decision.”

Megan tossed her head furiously. “If you marry me, they will always have you under their watchful eye. They need this because there is something utterly important which they fear you might disclose.”

Guy inclined his head slightly. “You are right.”

“What secrets of vital importance do you know?” she asked rather loud.

He looked around, thanking providence that they were in the isolated place. “Be careful, Meg,” he admonished. “Neither you nor I need to have serious problems with your mistress.”

There was a strange silence between Megan and Guy as they contemplated each other. They could hear the doleful, lingering notes as one of Eleanor’s troubadours started singing another tragic love song. For a long moment, they sat motionless, listening to the song as if they were entranced.

Finally, Megan made a movement. She leaned into Guy so that she could ask him a question so quietly that no passing courtier could hear them. “The Queen Mother’s golden boy,” she murmured into his ear. “Do you know who he is? Is that the reason why they want you to be close to them and to me?”

Guy was amazed. “How do you know about him?”

“Have you forgotten that I am Queen Eleanor’s spy?”

“No, I haven’t,” he said curtly.

Megan recollected the events that happened about two years ago. “I learned about his existence from Sir William de Longchamp’s codified messages. I don’t know for certain who he is, but I have my own suspicions.” She sighed. “The Queen Mother trusts me, and she knows that I will never betray her.”

“And what do you think?”

She lowered her voice, so as not to eavesdrop. “I am sure that he is Robin of Lockley.”

Guy sighed heavily. “Please let me leave this question answered.”

She gave a nod. “You don’t need to say what is already clear.”

“Never talk to anyone about it,” he demanded.

“I am not a fool, and I want to keep my head attached to my body.”

Guy gave her a long, searching gaze. “Did you know that Sir Hugh had been betrothed to my mother before King Henry bedded her?”

“Yes,” she replied. “When I arrived in Nottingham, you were accused of Robin’s murder, and Queen Eleanor was imprisoned by Prince John, my father told me about his old love story with Lady Ghislane.” She sighed. “He also told me that you are not Roger of Gisborne’s son.”

Guy’s brows came together in bewilderment for a moment before realization dawned upon him: Hugh Bennet was Richard’s loyal man who knew about his parentage, maybe even the secret of Robin’s birth. “Well, they made the right choice if they wanted to tie me to the Plantagenets.”

Megan tugged nervously at the collar of her gown. “My father didn’t know about the golden boy. King Richard also never told him that you are King Henry’s son. He himself guessed that, for he knew when the old king had started an affair with your mother and was discarded by him.”

Guy’s heart writhed in a blend of anguish, sorrow, alarm, and guilt. He cursed the old king once again. Ghislane’s liaison with Henry was the first event in the sequence of many future tragic events; he wondered what his mother could say now if she were alive. “I deem that it wasn’t difficult for your father to learn that if he witnessed my mother’s affair with King Henry.”

Her lips curled in an instinctive snarl. “Guy, I don’t like what they are doing. I am sorry that they are forcing you to marry me for their own purposes,” she spluttered, biting back the hurt that welled up in her.

“You are sorry?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes. It is not the right thing to do.”

Guy smiled at her. Although Megan was wiser than her coevals, there was still a visible layer of naiveté in her. “Arranged marriages are a backbone of the noble society. From this standpoint, there is nothing wrong in ordering you and me to wed, especially given that you are Queen Eleanor’s confidante.”

“I know.”

“The problem is that you are not very fond of any marriage.”

Megan averted her gaze. “You are wrong,” she stated emphatically. “I am a normal woman, and I also want to have a home and a family. I have always dreamt of being married to the right man, although many people will say that I probably hate men.” She smirked. “I rejected too many suitors.”

Guy chuckled. “I have heard many stories about broken hearts of your numerous admirers.”

“Indeed, there are many rumors circulating around the court.”

“People always talk.” He sounded and looked weary.

She let out a doleful laugh. “Thanks to arranged marriages, there are countless women who are not in love with their husbands. Even De Amore says that love doesn’t have place between husband and wife.” She flashed a plaintive smile, her eyelids fluttering. “Well, there are things worse than forced marriages.”

“Much worse,” he said, lowering his head as if in shame.

Megan put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you again thinking of the years when you served Vaisey?”

Guy smiled, once again astounded how easily she could read his mind; Marian never understood him so well. “You are correct, Meg.”

“Why are you still remembering this vile man? You have to forget him!”

He lifted his head and glanced into her eyes. “The murders I committed under Vaisey’s orders finally caught up with me today.” Then he told her about the list of the people whom he had destroyed.

Megan’s eyes were shooting daggers. “They are blackmailing you.” She had never thought that there would be a day when she would vehemently disapprove of what her beloved Queen Mother was doing.

“Well, these words are not applicable to royals, but this is exactly what they are doing.”

She looked into his eyes steadily. “You caused harm to many people in the past. You killed many people. Anger, hatred, and vengeance ran through your veins like a fiery poison. But, finally, you saw a light and found the way out of the darkness that surrounded you.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Guy, you changed. You are not the same man you were two years ago and not even the same man whom I met in the dungeons.”

He looked hopeful. “You think so?”

“Surely,” Megan murmured truthfully. “You are a man of contradictions, Guy.” She chuckled. “You can be cruel and brutal, dangerous and dark. You can also be brave and compassionate, vulnerable and emotional. You used to hide your goodness in your heart, but now everything is different.”

There was a mirthful chuckle from Guy. “You have a great understanding of me. Very few people understood what you accomplished in half a year, even though some of them know me for several years.”

“Well, you are flattering me,” she retorted.

“I only said the truth.”

“What are you going to do, Guy?”

Guy was dithering like one of the silly ducks in the Locksley pond. “I don’t know.”

“You wanted to marry Lady Marian,” she put in, her features unreadable, her gaze fixed on his face; yet, inside her heart was breaking and her soul was in tears.  “You haven’t forgotten her.”

“Once I told you that I am not sure she can make me happy.”

Megan looked into Guy’s eyes, her heart thundering against her ribcage like the midst of a devastating storm. She detected a light that burned with a clear, untroubled, and scintillating flame in the mysterious shades of a steel blue canvas of his eyes. She was submerged into the depths of Guy’s beautiful eyes.

It was as unintentional as the birth of a thought in the head, as once again, Megan realized fully that she loved Guy with every fibre of her being. As they sat so close, feeling the warmth emanating from their bodies, she recalled their kiss in the moonlit forest, the first kiss in her life, and a torrent of pleasurable sensations cascaded through her like a refreshing, much-needed rain over a parched land. And Megan needed Guy – she needed his touch, craved it in the long, lonely nights over the past few weeks when they had been separated. She wanted Guy to kiss her; she itched to know the comfort and strength of his body, the mesmerizing sound of his husky voice, and she wanted him fervently.

Breaking eye contact, she sighed. “Guy,” she called softly. “I know what Queen Eleanor may do.”

“And what can they do to me?” he inquired, although he knew the answer pretty well. They would simply kill him off somehow; one night he could simply do to bed and never wake up again.

Megan glanced back at him; her expression morphed into agitated thoughtfulness. “Eleanor is a moral and noble-minded woman, but she fights for those whom she loves like a tigress. In this case, she is fighting for Richard, Robin, and all her family, and for England because this secret might destroy the country.”

“This is a bloody secret, Meg.”

“Eleanor and Richard will go to any lengths to protect the royal dynasty, the kingdom, and the nation,” she whispered. She gasped as Guy took her hand and entwined their fingers. “Do you know I mean?”

He nodded. “I do.”

Megan released a sigh. “She poisoned many keepers of the secret. I know about that for sure.”

Guy looked helpless. “And if I disobey, then my days will be numbered.”

She squeezed his hand. “I am sorry, Guy. This time, I cannot become your angel of salvation.”

With sudden, sickening clarity, Guy realized something. A rusty laugh erupted from him, and he shook his head. “King Richard and Queen Eleanor didn’t trap me. King Henry and Vaisey trapped me.” His heart drummed in his chest. “But maybe there is a divine touch in all what is happening to us.”

Her expression evolved into concern. “Don’t you understand what they are capable of doing to you?”

Guy laughed. “I am tired of doubts. I want only peace.” His mouth twisted with the effort it was taking to hold back his emotions. “Maybe this decision will give me peace?”

Her heart trembled; her breath hitched as desperation seeped into her. “Are you going to marry me?”

He laughed deep in his chest, with a peculiar touch of excitement. “Let there be no misunderstanding between us. We will take our mutual pleasure when we wed, Meg, for I think it is a fair bargain for us both.”

Megan fidgeted and rose to her feet. She stared at him with reprehension in her eyes. “Of course, a fair bargain,” she echoed. “It cannot be anything else for you, Guy!”

Guy stood up and took her hand in his. “It is not only a deal, Meg.”

“Why are you saying this?” she questioned, trying hard not to cry.

“That is true,” he reasserted.

Megan needed to leave as her emotions roiled inside her, raw and mind-bending. “I don’t know what to think, Guy,” she choked out. Then she turned on her heels and left him alone.

Guy didn’t follow her. Shuffling his feet, he stood and watched her blend with the crowd of the courtiers.

A thought dogged Guy that he wished Marian to be more like Megan in some ways, especially to be less confused with her feelings. Earlier, the thought that Marian could be separated from him meant that the only light in his life would extinguish. As Guy changed and stepped on the road to redemption, his feelings for Marian underwent a wealth of changes aided by the discovery that he could live and breathe without her. His love for Marian wasn’t an illusion, for he did really love her in his own way, but his need for her wasn’t as sharp as before, it wasn’t all-absorbing either. Like Robin, Guy was disillusioned; he was a weary traveler in the maze of trials and tribulations who craved peace, but he doubted that Marian could give him it.

In silence, Guy brooded over his relationship with Marian. His interest in her had started when he had learned that Marian had been abandoned by Robin for the sake of glory on the battlefield. At that time, Guy’s heart had been filled with a thirst for revenge on Robin for all the misery in his life. He had wanted to conquer Marian’s heart to take away all that Robin held dear. Guy had also genuinely believed that Robin didn’t love Marian; he had thought that he could make her much happier than she could ever be with Robin; he dreamt that his passion would chase away thoughts and memories of Robin from Marian’s head.

Guy had married Marian, believing that he had conquered her heart. Then he had realized that she was the Nightwatchman and had lied to him, spying on him for Robin. In the courtyard in Imuiz, Guy had been informed by Marian that she had been betrothed to Robin twice. He remembered Marian’s reaction to the news of Robin’s marriage to the king’s cousin: her heart was in tatters, like fine silk caught in the mechanics of a grist mill and pulled too harshly, and her mind was guilt-ridden as well. She had fought with him tooth and nail to prevent him from killing King Richard and Robin. The mere thought of Robin’s death was unbearable for Marian, making her as vulnerable as a snail without a shell.

After the regicide attempt in Imuiz, Guy had felt his own helplessness, watching Marian plunge into deeper despair; he had concluded that part of her heart had died together with Robin. Marian seemed to be indifferent to life after Robin’s death, as if she were dying while being alive, as if Robin’s farewell words spoken by him to her in privacy had taken away light, air, life, and every bit of her hope. She had been so emotionally and physically distant from Guy after Robin’s demise that he wondered whether she would have preferred him to die instead of Robin. Guy had the inclination to think that Marian’s miserable mental dwelling wouldn’t have withstood a vigorous kick if Robin hadn’t come back from the dead.

Guy’s relationship with Marian was as tumultuous as her relationship with Robin. In fact, Guy’s relations with Marian were similar to her relationship with Robin: he didn’t understand her in many aspects like she didn’t understand Robin. He created an image of a perfect pure woman in his head, and he married Marian. But many of his dreams had been shattered soon after their wedding. A few weeks ago, Marian herself had told him that she was probably not a marrying kind and could live without Robin and him. Nevertheless, in spite of Marian’s words, Guy had not even a shadow of doubt that Marian still loved Robin.

Life was like a river, forever changing, yet forever the same. Now Guy was conscious of the fact that Marian’s heart was palpitating with her undying love for Robin Hood, even though she didn’t confess to loving the hero. He could marry Marian again and again, but every time he would tumble headlong into a pitch darkness, and his entire world would be one black gully because she would never return his love. Marian morphed into an apparition in his mind, and there was a magnificent, clear light shining like the brightest star in a velvety tepid canvas – Megan. That river’s current could change its course sometimes.

§§§

After the feast, one of the Queen Mother’s ladies-in-waiting went to Marian’s bedchamber in the eastern wing of the palace and summoned her to the Maubergeonne Tower. The lady led Marian through numerous corridors, where they met only several courtiers. Soon they entered the breathtakingly beautiful great hall, known as _La Salle des Pas Perdus, the “hall of lost footsteps”_. As countless golden and silver candelabra which hung from the high vaulted ceiling were lit, Marian could see the queenly splendor all around.

Before exiting the great hall, Marian stopped for a moment and roamed her wistful eyes over the hall of lost footsteps. She remembered the happy days of her early youth when she had visited Robin in Poitiers, and she had been deeply impressed by the magnificence of this palace. She felt a nagging pain in her heart as her mind drifted back to the old days that were gone a long time ago, and she steeped in nostalgia.

They ambled out of the grand hall and climbed the steep staircase, heading to the Maubergeonne Tower. They walked through two corridors and ascended another sweeping staircase. In the upper part of the tower, they passed numerous luxurious bedrooms. There was a swarm of ladies and men moving in the corridors and heading to their rooms or out of the tower; they were laughing and singing, their blood heated with merriment. Finally, Marian and her companion stopped near the heavy doors that led to the study.

The queen’s lady opened the door, and Marian walked in. As soon as she heard the sound of the closing door, Marian felt her heart beating faster as her gaze fell on Queen Eleanor sitting in a high-back armchair near the window and looking at her with curious eyes, the old lady’s expression devoid of emotions.

“Your Grace,” Marian murmured as she sank into a gracious curtsey.

“Rise, Lady Marian,” the Queen Mother permitted in a formal manner.

Marian rose from her curtsey, not daring look at the queen. “I hope Your Grace is doing well tonight.”

“It is very good to see you tonight, my lady!” Eleanor exclaimed as she viewed Marian from head to foot with interest. “We are all very well after tonight’s feast in honor of Sir Guy,” she answered coldly. “Please take a seat there,” she added, pointing at a nearby velvet-covered armchair.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” As she moved across the study, Marian felt her legs shaking with fear. Her entire body was drenched with clammy sweat under the fabric of her lovely gown made out of dark blue brocade, with a small light blue train and with the front adorned with pearls.

As Marian settled in the armchair, she roved her eyes over her surroundings. The study was decorated in an elaborate southern style with the active use of silver, gold, and versatile jewels in design. The chamber was furnished with a long, delicately carved, mahogany table and a row of high-back wooden chairs, each of them upholstered with purple brocade. There were many high shelves in the study, each full of books in various languages, which hung on two bare walls; Eleanor had a fierce passion for reading.

Eleanor smiled at Marian’s amazement. “Do you like my collection of books, Lady Marian?”

A relaxed Marian let out a small smile. “Yes, Your Grace! It is fabulous!”

There is much wisdom in these books, and I am an avid reader,” the old lady voiced her opinion; then she sighed lamentably. “Maybe this is one of the very few things which John and I have in common.”

Marian didn’t dare comment on the queen’s words. She also noticed the tension in the other woman’s jaw line and the bitterness in her gaze at the mention of John. “How can I serve Your Grace?”

The Queen Mother chuckled. “Ah, Lady Marian! I should have known that you are a practical woman who doesn’t like to waste her time on flummery, tittle-tattle, and semantics.”

Marian lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushing. “Your Grace, I am sorry if I displeased you. I–”

The queen cut off Marian’s apology. “You can do almost nothing to displease me or Richard.” She smiled slightly, her gaze becoming warmer. “I know what you did for Richard in Acre. You saved his life when Sir Guy could kill my son: you distracted him until Robin came to the courtyard.”

Marian gazed back at the other woman. “But Guy didn’t try to kill the king.”

Eleanor shook her head in disagreement. “We all know that Sir Guy could have murdered Richard.” She paused, her gaze turning ever-penetrating. “After all, he once attempted to kill the king when he wounded Robin.” She paused again, her eyes piercing Marian’s face and mind. “I know that you may say many things to justify Sir Guy’s actions in Acre, but we will probably never agree about it.” She emitted a heavy sigh. “Richard and I think that if a man committed an act of treason once, he can always do it again.”

Marian knew that there was a sense in the queen’s words, but their opinions didn’t concur. “Well, my opinion is different from Your Grace’s. Everyone deserves a chance to become a better man.”

Eleanor thought that there was so much in common between Marian and Robin, for they both believed in goodness in everyone. “Yes, there are still naïve and kind people who dream of the ideal world that exists only in their heads.” She smiled with a sublime smile. “You do remind me of Robin in the old days.”

Marian’s sapphire eyes flashed with remembrance. It was true that despite all the changes in Robin and in her, there were many fundamental unchanged things that were just buried in their hearts. She and Robin were forever tied to one another with their longing for the old England and days. “Robin and his convictions changed, but he still tries to believe in goodness in all people.”

Eleanor nodded. “That is true. This makes the life of a disillusioned Robin more bearable.”

“I think so, Your Grace.”

The queen was staring into Marian’s eyes for a space of a few heartbeats. Then she redirected the thread of their conversation to what was on the agenda. “Treason is a matter of habit, which why kings and queens punish their subjects for regicide attempts and attempts to overthrow them by ordering their executions,” she continued in a metallic voice. “Caesar loved Brutus who was one of Cesar’s murderers in the senate of Rome. And neither Richard nor I want to have Sir Guy as our Brutus. We are still concerned about the permanency of Sir Guy’s loyalty to us, for lack of a better word.”

Marian gasped for air, her heart racing. “What do you mean, Your Grace?”

“Sir Guy knows something about Robin that he has to keep a secret until his dying breath.”

Marian gave her a startled look: she didn’t expect that they would talk about the dark mysteries of the past. Anxiety tightened her stomach, and she spluttered, “But Guy would have never said anything about–“

Eleanor briefly interrupted her to expound her powerful argument. “Sir Guy of Gisborne has changed, but none of us can read his mind and predict what he will do in the future. He used to have an unwavering loyalty to Lord Vaisey, but then he switched sides. Given that Sir Guy is better informed than I would wish him to be, we have to be extremely cautious with him.”

Marian countered dauntlessly, “Your Grace knows that I know this secret too. You have my word that I will never say anything to anyone. I will never do anything to destabilize the situation in England, and I will never cause any harm to King Richard, Your Grace, the Plantagenet family, and Robin.”

“I believe you, Lady Marian. But we have doubts about Sir Guy.”

“If I may ask, why do you think so?” Marian asked boldly.

The queen pursed her lips in mock disappointment. “God’s mercy, you don’t understand, Lady Marian?” Her voice was sardonic. “You didn’t grow up at my royal court, but Sir Edward didn’t save money on your tutors. You are a well-educated and intelligent woman! My Richard was most impressed by you!”

Marian felt a chill running down her spine. Queen Eleanor was like King Richard: they both lauded and then mocked you, throwing nasty barbs at you, and then they praised again. She had a sudden impulse to inveigh against the royal lady, but she reined in her emotions. She sighed before saying flatly, “I thank Your Grace for your kindness, and I am exulted about being in your high esteem, which surely I don’t deserve.”

Eleanor was impressed by Marian’s artful maneuver against her mocking assault. She hadn’t met the grown-up Lady Marian of Knighton when Robin had lived at the court in Poitiers because she had been imprisoned until King Henry’s passing, and she was always interested in what Robin found in Sir Edward of Knighton’s young daughter. She began to understand why her son had fallen in love with Marian and was still not indifferent to the lady. Yet, Eleanor thought that Marian would never be able to vie for supremacy of intelligence, spirit, and beauty with her niece, Melisende, who was so much like the queen herself.

“I only said the truth,” the queen repeated.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“I want to talk to you about Sir Guy’s future,” Eleanor supplied, her expression concentrated. “Sir Guy once was a traitor, and there is no guarantee that it will never revert to the old ways. I assure you that it pains me to say this because I liked Lady Ghislane despite her betrayal of my trust and because I feel sympathetic with this misguided man.” She trailed off for a moment. “We have to make sure that the secret which Richard revealed to you in Acre will never slip from Sir Guy’s tongue.”

A confused Marian frowned. “How are you planning to do this, Your Grace?”

The Queen Mother proceeded to the tale about Guy’s prospective marriage to Lady Megan Bennet whom she trusted as if she were her own daughter. Eleanor explained why Richard and she considered Guy’s marriage to Megan and the rewards coming with this matrimony enough to ascertain the safety of the secret and to be confident that Guy would always stay near the king and would take that secret to his grave. Marian found the plan a cunning and reasonable thing, and she comprehended the queen’s reasoning, even though she didn’t like that Richard and Eleanor ruled Guy’s fate and imposed their will on him.

As Eleanor spoke about the arranged marriage for Guy, Marian wasn’t emotionally devastated at the thought that Guy would wed another woman, all the more the beautiful Lady Megan. She had already reconciled herself to the thought that she had lost Robin, and she didn’t love Guy anymore. Truth be told, Marian doubted that she had really loved Guy, although her affection for him had been present in her heart and had been growing. _Her feelings for Guy might have been her infatuation while her confused heart still belonged to Robin_. Maybe she would be better without these two men.

As the queen finished her long speech, she scrutinized Marian, her expression impenetrable, but her eyes anxious. “I want you to understand Richard and me, Lady Marian, even if you most likely find it difficult. This secret is too important for England and the ruling royal dynasty, and we must ensure that Sir Guy will remain loyal to us.” Normally, she didn’t talk in this manner to any of her subjects, but, in this case, she made an exception because the situation was unusual and because she actually liked Marian.

“I understand you, Your Grace,” Marian said sincerely; she risked glancing into the queen’s eyes. “I hope that Guy will accede to this demand.” She sighed deeply, preparing herself to ask the question that troubled her. “And what will happen if Guy doesn’t agree to marry Lady Megan?”

Queen Eleanor gazed away, staring at the painting depicting the mythological sacrifice to the gods on one of the tapestries. “If Sir Guy isn’t reasonable enough to do what Richard and I want, then his fate… won’t be as bright as it can be. Someone needs to be sacrificed for the greater good.”

Marian inwardly shuddered and swallowed hard. “Guy must comprehend everything for his own good.” She realized that Guy’s life would be in terrible jeopardy if he contravened the king’s decision.

“As I said, he already knows the truth. He talked to Megan, but I don’t know what he will do.”

“I can try to persuade him, Your Grace.”

The queen disagreed with Marian. “Leave him be for a while, Lady Marian.” Her lips curved in a smile. “There will be no official announcement about the betrothal until Richard’s return. Then the wedding will happen almost immediately because Sir Guy will depart to Normandy with our king.”

“I suppose Guy will try to talk to me.”

Eleanor cocked a curious brow. “So I was right that you and Sir Guy can consider marriage.”

Marian shook her head. “Guy proposed to me after the official annulment of our marriage, but I said that I cannot think of marrying anyone to anyone until the king’s safe return to England.”

 “Good. I suggest you keep it this way,” Eleanor said curtly.

“This separation is absolutely bearable for me, Your Grace.”

The queen regarded Marian inquisitively. “You don’t want to marry Sir Guy, do you?”

Marian emitted a sigh. “I think Guy and I will be happier if we go on separate paths.”

Eleanor and Marian stared at each other for a long moment. The queen didn’t need to inveigle Marian into confession to loving Robin as Marian’s feelings were plainly reflected in her eyes that sparkled every time Robin was mentioned.

“Now we will discuss you,” Eleanor jumped to another topic. “Tell me, Lady Marian, what are your plans after all this insanity caused by John settles down and you can go back to Nottingham?”

A knot of frustration pulled taut inside Marian as her mind floated to the disturbing question about the fate of the people of Nottingham. “I am planning to rebuild Knighton Hall and take care of my people in my father’s village. I neglected my responsibilities to the people of Nottingham for many months,” she said with a sigh, bitterness and guilt edging into her voice. “When we were in Acre, King Richard rewarded me with some lands in Nottinghamshire which had previously belonged to a few loyal Crusaders who had died without leaving any heirs. I want to take care of the people who live in these lands as well.”

“In all fairness, you deserve our deep respect,” the queen averred. “I was amazed to learn from Robin that you fed the peasants as the Nightwatchman while Robin was in the Holy Land.”

Marian was displeased that Robin had disclosed the identity of the Nightwatchman to the Queen Mother. Nevertheless, she smiled. “I had to help the poor and starving.” She paused to collect her thoughts. As she spoke again, she outlined her priorities. “I will do anything to keep my people out of harm’s way. I will work tirelessly to keep them fed and safe while abiding the king’s law and moral principles.”

“They will gladly serve and follow you. With Richard’s endorsement, they all will be your loyal servants. They won’t plot behind your back just because you are a woman who owns and rules vast and rich lands.”

“I earnestly hope that it will be so, Your Grace.”

"It will, Lady Marian," the queen assured her with a look of admiration. "You have a kind and honorable heart. Your compassion, bravery, cunning, fearlessness, and intransigence are your greatest strengths."

Marian was momentarily taken aback by Eleanor’s commendations. “My father respected my desires and choices, but he always said that these things can harm me.”

Marian didn’t allude to Guy and Robin’s words; they had once told her the same. Robin was so much like Sir Edward: Robin respected her wishes and loved her for who she really was, but he wasn’t hers anymore. A thought that she had lost Robin forever invaded her mind, and Marian felt the poignancy of that loss, as if she had been jabbed to the bone. Marian schooled her visage carefully, giving away none of her feelings.

Eleanor discerned the younger woman’s inner turmoil as she espied the tremble of Marian’s bottom lip, which added to her belief that Marian was in love with her son. “He was correct, Lady Marian.”

“Unfortunately, it is true, Your Grace.”

The Queen Mother spoke about her beliefs and values. “I have never believed that women should devote their lives to bearing and raising children, to taking care of their husbands and running their households, and that they should be subordinate to the needs of men. I have never thought that women are inferior to men in all things, although the Church doesn’t agree with me.” She smiled. “Women have the right to education and to maintaining their independence. They can assume important leadership roles, such as an abbess, a duchess, or a queen regnant; I see nothing wrong if a woman takes the reins of power.”

Marian’s eyes flashed with admiration. No woman in Christendom could rival Eleanor of Aquitaine in the many things she had done in her life. Marian reluctantly admitted, “At times, I am aggrieved that I am not a man.”

Eleanor scoffed. “Lady Marian, a unique woman like you can always find your own way in a world that is owned and dominated by men. You should never complain about the dullness of your life because you are making a difference and you will be remembered for a long time while others will be forgotten.”

“This makes me feel more optimistic, for I have some great plans for the people living on my lands.” Marian’s voice sounded joyful as the satisfaction from the queen’s statement gave her confidence in herself. Now she liked Eleanor more than at the beginning of their audience.

“Very few are masters of their fates; not even kings.”

Marian dipped her head in assent. “The Lord is the Master of our fates.”

Eleanor smiled. “Lady Marian, you will get your chance to do what you wish when you become the proud mistress of Knighton and of all the lands granted to you by Richard.” She raised her voice slightly. “You have my word that as long as Richard is king and I am alive, Nottingham will be ruled by a just sheriff, and your people won’t suffer under tyranny.”

Marian afforded a gratified smile. “I will never forget your kindness, Your Grace.”

An elated Marian left the study. The thought that the queen was Robin’s natural mother caused her to compare Robin and Eleanor. She liked the short audience with the Queen Mother, although she didn’t know for sure whether her feelings of respect and adoration were reciprocated. The news of Guy’s marriage made her feel profoundly relieved as Guy had a chance to create a bright future with another woman who loved him more deeply and unconditionally. Marian’s own future lay with the people of Nottingham and with the fate which God had ordained her and which she didn’t know yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> Queen Eleanor and Robin had their first heart-to-heart conversation. I believe that they needed to be utterly frank with each other as there are no secrets between them. This conversation was the first step to a more affectionate and closer relationship. Will Robin grow to love Eleanor as his mother? You will learn about that in chapter 17.
> 
> Some readers might be astonished that Robin doesn’t respect his father. I personally feel that even a noble-minded man like Robin cannot respect his father after Malcolm abandoned him for years and didn’t even try to save him from Bailiff Longthorn. Eleanor doesn’t respect Malcolm either, but she feels pity for him and a tiny bit of compassion. Malcolm will reappear in the siege of Nottingham, in chapter 15, as he has his own role in this story.
> 
> I thought that Eleanor needed to thank Guy for saving Robin’s life at Pontefract Castle, and, thus, Guy became a guest of honor at the queen’s feast. Robin is always a hero while Guy is always a villain. Robin always gets his glory as the savior of England, King Richard, and the people, but sometimes Guy deserves public commendation as well. I hope that you liked the detour of Eleanor’s conversation with Guy to the history of Ghislaine’s family and the insight into the life of Guy’s ancestors.
> 
> Guy was pardoned by King Richard in Acre, but his grave crimes have caught up with him once more. For understandable reasons, Eleanor and Richard don’t really trust Guy, and they are extremely worried that Guy might say things which he must keep a secret. They have no reason to believe Guy wholeheartedly, and they doubt his loyalty. Indeed, Guy has a long history of treacherous plots against King Richard! As they need proof of Guy’s unwavering loyalty to them, the King of England and the Queen Mother demand that Guy marry Megan, who is very close to the Plantagenets, and serve the king in Normandy. While I was posting part 2 “Mysteries Unveiled”, I warned you that Richard would remind Guy of his crimes and would force him to prove his loyalty in part 3 “Fight for Peace”.
> 
> I hope that Guy fans are not displeased, but in case you are angry, I want to reassure you once more that nothing bad will happen to Guy. On the contrary, he will have quite a friendly relationship with Richard who will be generous to him in later chapters. You are surprised that a marriage was arranged for Guy and Meg, and you want to ask me whether it will happen; I can only say that you need to wait.   
> 
> Megan’s relationship with Guy is growing; he is very emotionally distant from Marian. In fact, Marian morphs into an apparition in Guy’s mind, and he thinks about Megan. Does that mean that Marian and Guy will never be together and Guy will wed Megan? Maybe yes; maybe no. Remember that we have a lot of drama in the siege (chapters 14, 15, 16). I hope you like Eleanor’s relationship with Marian.
> 
> There is some interesting information about the court of love in this chapter. Andreas Capellanus is a real historical personality; he was the twelfth-century author of a treatise commonly titled ‘De amore’ ("About Love"), for which a possible English translation is The Art of Courtly Love. The given information about ‘De Amore’ and performances is more or less historically correct. 
> 
> All courtly love songs mentioned in this epic does really exist. I hope you like these poetic additions in the story. I took the liberty to change Robin a bit: in canon, Robin cannot sing, but in this epic, he is Queen Eleanor’s illegitimate son, and I wanted him to inherit something from her Sothern talents. Therefore, my Robin sings with Megan, Melisende, and a few other characters in this epic. I also took the liberty in portraying Robert de Beaumont, one of the Lionheart’s favorites: there is no information about his musical talents, and his ability to sing in Occitan wasn’t historically documented.


	13. Drama in Aquitaine

**Chapter 13**

**Drama in Aquitaine**

With Queen Eleanor’s return to Poitiers, the previously quiet royal court blossomed in all the colors of a rainbow; there were numerous lavish feasts, banquets, and other entertainments arranged in Eleanor’s honor. There were also private evenings in the queen’s chambers in the Maubergeonne Tower.

Queen Eleanor ordered a grand banquet in the stunningly beautiful great hall, known as _La Salle des Pas Perdus_ , the “ _hall of lost footsteps_ ” as a footfall was silenced by the vastness of the chamber. Tonight’s festivities were anticipated to be grander than other feasts organized since the queen’s return. It was the last day of the summer today, and the Queen Mother wished to celebrate the change of seasons lavishly.

Tonight _La Salle des Pas Perdus_ was absolutely majestic. Everything in the great hall shone in magnificent splendor. The walls were draped with expensive tapestries depicting forest strolls, summer hunts, ancient mythological scenes, and outdoor festivities. The walls were also adorned with flowers – laurels, white lilies, and red roses. There were also statues of Orpheus and Arion smiting their lyres.

The courtiers crowded around three long tables that were set together to form a great U-shape and were covered with a white damask tablecloth and numerous silver candelabras. The hall was illuminated by many blazing candles and burning torches hanging on the walls. Every table was laden with a tremendous orgy of food: meat, oysters, veal, venison, fish, poultry, cheeses, bowls overflowing with some exotic fruits, jellies and nuts, and many other delicacies. The scent of food and flowers mingled with the perfumed air created an intoxicating air that filled their veins with life.

Robin shifted in his high-back chair in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. He wore an expression of feigned serenity since the beginning of the banquet. Everyone thought that Robin looked dashing in his trendy blue velvet doublet with black slashing and a V-shaped jeweled collar, in his black brocade shirt and his matching trousers; a jeweled belt glimmered faintly in the orange candlelight.

As a guest of honor at Queen Eleanor’s court, Robin occupied a privileged place at the table, sitting to the right from Queen Eleanor; his beautiful wife sat next to him. Robin, Eleanor, and Melisende sat at the central table in the grand hall, surrounded by statues of ancient Greek Gods, in the part of the hall which was most lavishly adorned with flowers. Sitting to the left from Eleanor, Megan, the queen’s favorite lady-in-waiting, glowed with happiness as she finally joined the entourage of her beloved Queen Mother.

Queen Eleanor was surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, as well as by the king’s most loyal noblemen, including Robert de Beaumont, Roger de Lacy, Carter Leighton of Stretton, Hugh de Neville, and several other nobles, many of whom had accompanied King Richard on the Third Crusade. Marian, Guy, and Allan were given places at the distant table; Robin could barely see them in the overcrowded chamber.

Eleanor of Aquitaine slowly rose to her feet, sweeping her eyes over the banqueting hall. All the courtiers stood up; men bowed to the Queen Mother and ladies sank into deep curtsies. Everyone stared in reverence at the most legendary, powerful, and notorious woman in Christendom. The queen looked regal and gorgeous in her red brocade gown with a square-cut neckline and ample sleeves trimmed with sable; her head was adorned with a stunning coronet of diamonds, sapphires, and rubies.

Queen Eleanor ran her eyes across the room. “My friends, this feast is devoted to the celebration of the coming autumn,” she proclaimed in Norman–French. “Enjoy the festivities at our court!”

The guests again bowed deeply to the queen; ladies sank into curtsies. Eleanor smiled at the lords and ladies, and dismissed them from their bows with an imperative wave of her hand.

Eleanor eyed the chamber quickly. With her gaze focusing on Robin’s face, she continued in a high voice, “We have news about King Richard! We are continuing our negotiations about our liege’s release, and soon the ransom will be paid. Hopefully, our king will return to England by the end of the year.”

Euphoric cries filled the chamber. In contrast to Prince John’s court in London, every courtier in Aquitaine was loyal to Queen Eleanor and King Richard. Everyone impatiently waited for the return of the beloved heroic Lionheart who had been taken prisoner against all international laws. Nevertheless, Eleanor knew that there could be John’s spies at the court, probably even in her closest entourage, and she became particularly cautious in the past days, trusting only Melisende, Robin, and Richard’s favorites.

Robin’s marriage to Melisende calmed the nerves of many nobles who had been displeased with the Lionheart’s long absence in England and had teetered on the brink of betraying their liege. Moreover, almost everyone knew that Vaisey, one of Prince John’s most loyal followers, was responsible for several regicide attempts and for almost murdering Robin in Imuiz; although no one publicly accused John of treason, everyone knew or suspected the truth, which deprived John of the support of all the Poitevin lords.

The Queen Mother seated herself in a luxurious high-back chair. Then she waved her hand at the courtiers, signaling a moment of silence. “As usual, Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and Count de Bordeaux, is a guest of honor tonight.”

All eyes were riveted on Robin, and the couriers cheered and hailed the hero. Yet, his popularity only irritated Robin who didn’t enjoy all that admiration at all. But after his supposed death in the Holy Land, he became a legend in his own time in Aquitaine and in the south of the Angevin Empire.

“It will be alright, Robin,” Carter soothed, looking at Robin from across the table.

Roger de Lacy smiled. “Robin, don’t pay attention to them. Let them stare at you if they wish.”

A forlorn Robin met the gazes of his friends in turns. “Thank you,” he uttered finally. His friends understood that he didn’t need fame anymore, and he was grateful for that.

Robin veered his gaze to Melisende. He smiled as his eyes took in his wife’s appearance – she was attired in a majestic gold and silver brocade gown that was tastefully cut in a low-neck style, its bodice embroidered with sapphires, diamonds, and pearls. Her long red-gold hair cascaded down her back in thick waves, and he wished to move his hands through them so he could push it over her shoulder and view her delicate neck.

“Robin, how are you doing? Are you enjoying the evening?” Melisende asked with concern.

Robin was gazing thoughtfully at his wife for some time before replying. “Melisende, you know that I prefer not to be here tonight.” He offered her a bleak smile. “I want to retire soon.”

“Robin, please listen to me,” she addressed her husband in a caressing voice. “You loved Much, and he loved you. I didn’t know Much for a long time, but I share your grief. It will take much time for you to reconcile yourself with the loss of your best friend. But you will cope!”

Robin’s eyes reflected the pain that blossomed inside him. He grabbed a goblet of wine and took a huge swig, hoping that the wine would help him relax a little bit. “I am trying to forget, but it is too difficult.”

Melisende tilted her head to one side. “Robin, you shouldn’t be ashamed to show your grief. Tears shed for your departed loved ones are not a sign of weakness – they are a symbol of a pure heart.”

Robin smiled plaintively. “Emotions…” he uttered after a moment’s silence, trying to keep his quiet voice from breaking. “Living without feeling anything is the same as not living at all. And yet, sometimes having no emotions is a better way of life.” His voice was bitter.

She underscored, “Emotions make you human!”

“There is something important I want to say,” he spoke in a livelier manner. “Melisende, there is no woman who understands me better than you do.”

There was a beatific smile on the face of the king’s cousin. “You are exaggerating, Robin.”

Queen Eleanor smiled with a splendid smile as she observed Robin and Melisende. She was immensely pleased that the marriage she had arranged for Robin turned out to be a marriage for love.

Megan, who had been talking with another lady-in-waiting a few moments before, flicked her gaze to Robin. “Please accept my most sincere condolences on your friend’s death, Robin.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Meg,” Robin responded with gratitude.

Megan’s visage was tinged with sympathy for Robin’s obvious pain. “If someone doesn’t wear their heart on their sleeve, emotions are still churning in them,” she said rhetorically. “I know that it is your case, Robin. But please don’t feel embarrassed to ask for help if you need it.”

Robin continued staring at Megan in startled amazement. “Thank you, Meg.”

Melisende took Robin’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “We will support you, Robin.”

When Megan began to converse with the queen, Robin gave his wife a smolderingly gorgeous half-smile accompanied with a flirty wink. “I have a great idea that would entice you into leaving the banquet.”

In response, Melisende flashed a sweet, tranquil smile. “And what is it, husband?”

Faint mockery laced his voice as he returned, “Do you have a guess, wife?”

“Maybe this will help you understand.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek to let her understand what was on his mind. “What do you feel, my love? Does the flame in your heart portend to a huge conflagration?”

She snorted. “Well, your seduction techniques leave a lot to be desired, Robin. They have become old-fashioned and predictable, and I am beginning to grow tired of them.”

Robin squeezed her fingers and kissed her palm. “Are you?” he teased.

“Sure. I am as tired as the wings of an old bird,” she affirmed with biting sarcasm.

“My intentions will reenergize you and make you feel younger,” he remarked with a derisive grin.

She made a face. “No, they won’t!”

“What a pity!” His voice dropped to a low rumble. He smiled brilliantly, even though it was a shadow of his old cheeky grin. “I would love to pride myself on knowing that I can accomplish so much!”

Melisende went very still as she pondered her reply. With wide violet eyes, she innocently glanced up at him, lowering her voice to a confidential whisper, “Is it so obvious that your charms are working?”

He jested, “Yes, my lady! My charm is one of my greatest assets!”

As Robin took her hands in his, Melisende laughed with a melodic laughter, and Robin laughed back. For a short moment, they felt as if the whole world were filled with lightness.

Gazing into his wife’s eyes, Robin thought that he knew for certain what every different shade of her beguiling eyes meant when they were aglow. He felt his loins swell with desire at the glorious images of the night forming in his mind. “Melisende, there is no more beautiful woman than you are,” he murmured.

“I am very happy when you say this, Robin,” his wife replied with a satisfied smile.

“I don’t deserve to have such a great wife.” Robin drew a hand through his sandy hair that freely fell over his ears and his right brow. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”

“Robin, you are right that you don’t deserve Lady Melisende,” Megan interjected with a playful smile.

Melisende frowned, but the corners of her lips were quivering in a smile. “Why is that so, Meg?”

Megan grinned, sipping wine from her goblet. “It is because nobody deserves you, Lady Melisende, like nobody deserves our most beloved Queen Eleanor!”

Robin smirked humorously. “Oh, Meg!”

Queen Eleanor swung her gaze to Megan. There was a large smile on her face as she exclaimed, “Oh, my dear Megan, you are flattering me!” Her eyes darted between Melisende and Megan. “Do you know someone who likes being old?” She laughed quietly. “In youth, we enjoy life; when we grow old, we get tired of life and want to meet the Lord. Hardest of all, as people become older and more sapient, is that they need to accept that they get weaker and no longer appreciate the beauty of life; but they cannot turn time back.”

“Your Grace, you are wrong!” Megan protested. “You are a great woman! You will always be unique!”

Melisende sipped wine from the goblet that had just been refilled by a servant. “The good thing about being old is that you don’t have to endure the consequences of youthful follies!”

“Amicia would say something like this,” Megan noted, her mind drifting back to her friend who continued spying for King Richard at Prince John’s court.

Melisende dipped her head in agreement. “Yes, she would.”

Robin looked down at the table; on his platter, there was only a small piece of venison left. “It is our inner world that makes us young or old.” He raised his eyes to the Queen Mother.

Eleanor’s face lit up with an impish smile. “The secret of eternal youth is to carry the spirit of the child within yourself into old age, which means that you will never lose your enthusiasm and hope.”

They all laughed blithesomely for the first time tonight.

Megan’s eyes danced with excitement. “Well, you will always be a big child, Robin?”

“There is a child living inside of me even now, in spite of all the changes in me,” Robin answered as he sipped wine. “Youth is a gift of nature, but it can also be a source of many problems.”

Eleanor smiled at Robin affectionately. “You are right, Robin. An impetuous and turbulent youth is the evidence of a dynamic and energetic personality.”

Realizing that the queen was reminiscing about her own youth, Melisende and Megan nodded at her.

“Yeah, take my rebellious spirit,” Robin began; a ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It created many problems for King Richard when we were in the Holy Land. My missions were usually successful, but our liege always cautioned me against being reckless; however, I didn’t react, which is why the king instructed others to protect me from my own foolhardiness and recklessness.”

“I believe that Robin disregarded Richard’s orders more too often,” Melisende retorted with a mischievous grin. “We will never be able to learn how many times he contravened Richard’s orders.”

Megan regarded Robin sympathetically. The mere thought of the slaughter witnessed and committed by Robin in the land of Jesus Christ was evoking a visceral fear in her heart. With an inward sigh, she said, “I have never been in the Holy Land, but I heard the same.”

Eleanor smiled at her youngest son proudly. “Robin, your bravery and compassion made you who you are now,” she claimed, her throat tightened with emotion. “There is nobody like you. You are the greatest hero of England, Hero of Acre, and the savior of the king and the nation.” She let her gaze roam about the room and then glanced back at Robin. “Who of all these lords can boast that he is better than you?”

A confident Melisende cried out, “Nobody!”

“Nobody or very few,” Megan agreed.

Robin sighed. “At times, I wonder whether most of my deeds were just or unjust.”

The queen began a philosophical speech that was spoken in a sarcastic undertone. “What makes my old age sad is not that we, old people, have few sources of joy, but that we don’t have sources of hope.” She smiled contently as she glanced over Robin, Melisende, and Megan in turn. “But when I look at such young creatures, like the three of you, I always think that England will most definitely have a bright future.”

Robin’s chest heaved with sadness. “God determines our destiny, and we cannot change it.”

Queen Eleanor, Megan, and Melisende shared uneasy glances. Death made Robin quite philosophical and a little fatalistic, and they all hoped that he wouldn’t lose the most important remnants of his old self – his ability to inspire everyone and to give hope for a better future.

Leaning back against his seat, Robin swept his eyes over the banqueting hall. He was still despondent as he was mourning for Much, but his stay at the court improved his mood. He reveled in the atmosphere of the Poitevin energetic, passionate, rebellious, fierce, musical, and sensitive aura. When he compared the southern people with the English people, it occurred to him that the English were less passionate, less artistic, and conservative. Now Robin understood why he was always fond of the people from Aquitaine – he was one of them as Queen Eleanor‘s son.

Eleanor raised her hand, signaling for silence. “And now our great _Comtessa de Dia_ will sing to her beloved _Raimbaut of Orange_ ,” she declared, looking at Melisende.

Waves of excitement washed over the guests. All eyes were now glued to Robin’s wife. It had long become a tradition at the court of love for Melisende to sing love songs composed by _Comtessa de Dia_ , an illustrious female troubadour who was in love with and sang about Raimbaut of Orange. Melisende often gave solo performances in front of the courtiers.

Smiling vividly, Melisende was looking into Robin’s eyes, and he was staring devotedly into hers, their fingers entwined. As the Queen Mother nodded, she began to sing in Occitan. It was the song “ _Estat ai en greu cossirier_ ” (“ _I’ve been in great distress of mind_ ”).

_Estat ai en greu cossirier_

_Per un cavallier q'ai agut,_

_E vuoil sia totz temps saubut_

_Cum eu l'ai amat a sobrier ;_

_Ara vei q'ieu sui trahida_

_Car eu non li donei m'amor,_

_Don ai estat en gran error_

_En lieig e qand sui vestida._

_“Of late I've been in great distress about a knight I thought was mine. I want it known for all of time that though I loved him to excess, his pleasure with me I delayed, and was on that account betrayed! It makes me wild: my mind can't rest whether I'm in bed or dressed.”_ Robin submerged into an ocean of sheer delight; his countenance was lit up with joy. His wife sang very well, her voice sweet and strong. The song was about the lady who agonized over the lack of the knight’s affection for her; that reminded Robin of his relationship with Marian, although he still loved his former betrothed.

_Ben volria mon cavallier_

_Tener un ser e mos bratz nut,_

_Q'el s'en tengra per ereubut_

_Sol q'a lui fezes cosseillier._

_Car plus m'en sui abellida_

_No fetz Floris de Blanchaflor,_

_Eu l'autrei mon cor e m'amor,_

_Mon sen, mos huoills, a ma vida._

It seemed that Melisende was talking to Robin as her desperate plea for the knight’s love tumbled from her lips. For a brief moment, his expression was unadorned by his usual cheekiness, and guilt radiated from him like heat from a furnace. Then Robin schooled his features into impassiveness. He winked at her, his eyes twinkling, and she winked back at him. Melisende wasn’t heartbroken: her love wasn’t unrequited, even though she loved him more than Robin loved her.

_Ben volria mon cavallier_

_tener un ser en mos bratz nut,_

_qu'el s'en tengra per ereubut_

_sol qu'a lui fezes cosseillier;_

_car plus m'en sui abellida_

_no fetz Floris de Blanchaflor:_

_ieu l'autrei mon cor e m'amor_

_mon sen, mos huoillis e ma vida._

_“I'd like it well if I caressed him with my naked arms. He'd get excited if I merely let him feel the softness of my breast; and he'd delight me even more than Floris once did Blanchaflor! I'd offer him my every part, my mind, my senses, and my heart.”_ As Melisende was started singing another verse, Robin’s body tingled with vehement passion as a primal desire for her overwhelmed him. He saw that she was also burning for him, and her singular focus was him at the moment.

_Bels amics avinens e bos,_

_Cora us tenrai e mon poder?_

_E que jagues ab vos un ser_

_E qe us des un bais amoros !_

_Sapchatz gran talan n'auria_

_Qe us tengues en luoc del marit,_

_Ab so que m'aguessetz plevit_

_De far tot so qu'eu volria._

Melisende’s eyes brightened when she realized what Robin was thinking about. His eyes darkened with passion, and his lips were curved in a sensual smile. Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard; the pulse at the base of her throat began to throb. The last verse made them ache with need for each other. _“When, my gallant handsome friend, when shall I have you in my power? I'll lie beside you and my tender kiss will bring your love to flower. I would be greatly comforted to have you in my husband's stead, but only if you swear to do everything I wish you to!”_

Melisende lapsed into silence. There was that enchanting smile on her face that always drove men mad with desire, but it was a smile only for her beloved husband.

The song was over. Loud applause followed, and the ebullient guests praised Melisende’s talent.

Robin and Melisende were lost in the beauty of the moment. She looked into his eyes that were full of unrestrained passion; her own eyes mirrored his hunger. Only God knew how long they were staring at each other like that. It might have been a few minutes or hours; but, to them, it was forever.

A smile pulled at the corners of Robin’s mouth. “I love you,” he whispered.

Melisende wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I love you, too,” she answered.

Robin brushed a tendril of red-gold hair from her cheek. "I read somewhere that souls are like flowers. Your soul is like the most gorgeous violet in the world.”

“I love violets, and I love the violet color.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I know,” he breathed. “The color becomes you, my love.”

§§§

Nibbling some food and slowly drinking wine, Guy sat close to Marian, Allan, and Archer in a quiet contemplation. They spent the evening talking about trifles; none of them dared touch on a serious topic, trying to relax. They interrupted their conversation only during interludes when the servants came to their table with trays full of delicious meal and rare delicacies and when Melisende had been singing.

A tired Guy wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. He didn’t sleep well in the past three months they had spent in Poitiers. In his dreams, he was always haunted by a feeling of withering loneliness and by terrifying memories of the past. When he awoke in a cold sweat and sat upright in bed, a lingering sadness pervaded his entire being, and he plunged into ebony darkness. Guy was yearning for Megan because only she could give him a sense of peace and calm, comfort and hope, alleviating his fears and anxieties. His relationship with Megan was a pivotal part of his life, but they were not close as she kept him at arm's length.

Allan broke the silence. “Lady Melisende has a voice of an angel.”

“Her voice is fabulous,” Guy assented. “I didn’t expect that Robin’s wife can sing so well.”

Marian gave a nod. “Her voice is mesmerizing.”

Archer heaved a sigh. Sadness encased him as Melisende’s image entered his mind. “Lady Melisende reminds me of a dangerous and beautiful siren who lures men to her island with her enchanting singing. I admire her, for she is a one-of-a-kind woman, but there is something… fatal about her.”

Marian smiled deplorably as she mulled over that. “I have a similar sensation,” she uttered at last. Guy was not thinking of the banquet. He was exasperated when loud laughter filled the chamber as a new entertainment was provided for the guests: dressed like nymphs, several women appeared in the great hall and began to dance.  As now there were not only Poitevin nobles but also English lords and ladies at the court, Queen Eleanor arranged English music and dance to entertain them; troubadours’ performance was scheduled for a later time. Applause and laughter followed the end of every song, but Guy looked sullen. When one of the singers finished singing in English and made an imposing bow, riotous applause mingled with shouts of laughter; Guy was one of the very few people who didn’t laugh at all.

Guy took a goblet of wine from a tray carried by a passing servant. As if the alcohol could relieve him from anxieties, he emptied the goblet and then asked to refill it. He drained the contents, feeling a little better; then Marian scolded him, saying that he shouldn’t drink more.

Guy intercepted heated glances of many young ladies; they smiled and winked at him, but he didn’t react. Today was the first time in many years when he didn’t wear black leather: he was dressed in a white doublet with a low collar, a blue brocade shirt, and white trousers; his clothes were designed in the latest Poitevin fashion but not adorned with any jewels, like it was popular in Aquitaine. When he wasn’t clad in black leather, he didn’t look as dangerous as he had looked during his service to Vaisey; now he looked handsome, and there was a fine combination of manliness, strictness, and sternness in his features.

Marian grasped Guy’s hand and gave it a shake. “Guy, are you alright?” she questioned.

Guy flicked his gaze to Marian and flashed a smile imbued with melancholy. There was a moment’s pause between them as the heat from her skin scorched his just, and it felt like they had been shocked to have a simple physical contact again. Yet, as they looked into each other’s eyes, they didn’t see a sizzling flame of passion. Instead, they saw softness that was like the touch of some scented southern wind. Marian and Guy instinctively felt that only a feeling of friendly affection was in their hearts; there was no love between them.

Marian took her hand away. “So?”

Guy blew a sigh of frustration. “You know that I don’t like the court.”

Marian easily gauged his thoughts. “Are you remembering your mother?”

He sighed again. “Always,” he confirmed. “Do you love Queen Eleanor’s court, Marian?”

It occurred to Marian that the people of England continued suffering as the ransom for the king’s release was still being collected. They were not there to feed and protect the poor! Marian’s guilt spiked through her chest like a series of tiny fevers. Anger at the king and herself coiled in her like a viper ready to strike, and it exploded in hissing words in an instant. “I am afraid I don’t like it. Now I cannot to fight for the poor and justice, and instead I must spend my time at festivities.” She paused and sucked in her breath. “Great!” she ground out sarcastically. “And, on top of that, we have the possibility that the king’s won’t be released this year..." She stopped abruptly as she noticed several courtiers, who were surreptitiously watching her, frown at her. “I am sorry,” she added and cast her eyes down.

“Marian,” Guy grunted as he glanced around and then stared fixedly at her. “Speak more quietly,” he demanded. Archer and Allan nodded at Guy in agreement, not pleased that she had blurted out that.

Marian fidgeted her fingers together. "What if…" she began worriedly. “Have they heard everything?”

Archer interposed, “They are seating quite far from us. They are hardly able to eavesdrop.”

As Archer turned his head to Allan, they began to converse in a low voice. For some time, Marian and Guy remained still, as if they didn’t want to extend the talk further.

Marian spoke finally when the silence became unbearable. “Guy, I understand what you feel.”

Guy was still exasperated at her shortsightedness. “Marian, we must be cautious,” he reminded her, anxiety making his voice stern. “As we cannot return to England now, we should just wait here.” He leaned closer to her and whispered into her ear, “Please think what you say, for the queen has spies everywhere.”

As he drew back, his lips stretched into a grin; Marian managed a strained smile. “It was improvident of me to think aloud about such things.”

“Indeed,” he muttered.

She took a bite of fish on her platter. “Yes, we must obey the Queen Mother.”

In the next moment, Archer and Allan stopped talking; Archer turned to Guy and Marian.

“When was the first time you were at court, Guy?” Archer asked his half-brother curiously.

Guy’s mood deflated. “Vaisey once took me to Prince Richard’s court in Poitiers, when Queen Eleanor was still imprisoned. It was many years ago, and we happened to be here just for several hours.”

“Again Vaisey…” Marian grouched.

In the short silence that followed, Guy was slowly sipping wine, savoring its taste. “Well, this is not what I like to think about.” He lost appetite after remembering Vaisey.

Allan’s lips curved in a small smile. “It is a great pity that we are not sitting close to Robin.” He finished eating a piece of venison, and now there was nothing left on his platter. “I miss Meg too; she has been distant from us as of late. Meg and Robin are two most sharp-witted people I have ever met.”

Archer nibbled an apple that he had just taken from a bowl. “Allan, you have forgotten me – I am as dryly humorous as Robin is. I enjoy Meg’s sense of wit a lot too.”

A tiny smile played around Guy’s lips. “Meg is an interesting and good girl.”

Marian assessed Guy thoughtfully. “Then you should have taken a place next to Queen Eleanor.”

During the months spent in Aquitaine, Marian became cognizant of Guy’s interest in Megan. The more she observed Guy, the more convinced she was that he was profoundly attracted to Megan. She noticed Guy’s eyes flickering between Megan and her, as if he were mentally comparing her with the queen’s confidante. She wasn’t foolish enough to ignore Guy’s apparently growing attraction to Megan. She suspected that Guy was torn between Megan and herself for quite some time, and that didn’t hurt her at all.

Guy looked at Marian in a strange way; then he sighed. “I wasn’t invited there.”

Marian let out a wry smile. “Maybe you wanted to be there?”

 “Why are you saying this?” Guy needed to know.

Marian canted her head and said perceptively, “You know what I think. And I am not angry at you.”

“Marian, we will have to talk later,” Guy said flatly, trying to keep his voice steady. He had to inform her about King Richard’s intention to marry him off to Megan, and he dreaded this upcoming moment.

A deep frown creased her forehead. “Has something bad happened?”

Guy glanced away. “Nothing. We just have to talk.”

Marian knew what he had implied. “Of course, Guy.” Guy didn’t know that Queen Eleanor had already informed her about Richard’s decision, and she accepted it.

An interlude during the banquet followed; more food and drinks were served. The feast was magnificent, and everyone was in an exultant mood, talking enthusiastically and zanily about the king’s return. Some of the guests walked out of the banqueting hall so that they could engage in licentious behavior in one of the many dark alcoves in the palace, returning later and maintaining an outer façade of morality, despite their inner morass of indecency.

An ecstatic Allan exclaimed, “The feast is so splendid! I would love to stay here forever!”

Marian smiled at Allan, pleased that at least one of them was happy and enjoyed the entertainments at the luxurious court. Allan regretted that he hadn’t taken Kate with him to Poitiers.

“Yes, the feast is great,” Marian agreed, her expression somber.

Archer slammed a half-empty goblet at the table. “Once I visited Prince John’s court in London. It seems that banquets at Queen Eleanor’s court are more lavish and opulent than at John’s!”

Guy directed at Allan a scornful glare. “Allan, you will never change. Even though your nobility and the lands of your family were reinstated to you, but it hasn’t made you a serious man.”

Marian smiled, her eyes darting towards Allan and then back to Guy. “Guy, don’t be so strict to Allan.”

“I am just being fair,” Guy objected.

“Hey, Guy, let me enjoy a good life tonight,” Allan supplied as he drank wine slowly. “We saved the Queen Mother from Pontefract! King Richard is coming home soon!”

Marian sighed discontentedly. “Not everything is fine.”

A dark shadow crossed Guy’s face. “I don’t think that Robin agrees with you, Allan,” he parried, sipping wine and looking around. “He is too affected by Much’s death.”

Archer emitted a heavy sigh. “Robin and Much were more brothers than I would ever be to him.”

“Robin’s wound will never heal,” Marian commented. She knew that Robin was suffering more than she did, fearing to imagine how much pain he was hiding.

“If you believe that I am not grieving, you are wrong,” Allan snapped indignantly. Displeasure registered on his face. “I grew to love Much while we lived in Sherwood.”

Marian tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Allan, we know that you are in mourning. We all loved Much, and now we hate Vaisey more than ever.” Her expression was pained, but her voice was steady. “But none of you can imagine what Robin and I are feeling.”

Guy spoke compassionately. “You were Much’s friend since childhood.”

Marian nodded as her gaze slid to Guy. “Yes.”

Guy’s eyes flashed like those of a demon as rage coursed through him, and he clenched his fists. “You are right. Much loathed me and didn’t consider me one of Robin’s comrades, but now I hate Vaisey more than ever: he took the life of another innocent man who died because Robin, you, and I were trapped.”

“Robin has the same thoughts, Guy,” Archer pointed out.

Allan leaned back in his chair. “Much died for England, for King Richard, and for Queen Eleanor. But he was more loyal to Robin and died for Robin Hood.” He let out a low growl. “Vaisey must pay for all his evil deeds after the king’s return. On that day, justice will be served.”

Marian shook her head. “I often doubt that there is justice.”

“I started doubting it a long time ago,” Guy confessed in a pessimistic tone.

“Cheer up!” Archer attempted to smile, but only having the corners of his mouth angle upwards a bit. “England and King Richard have us. We will follow Robin Hood, our leader and our friend! And when the king returns, we will overthrow the tyranny that infected the English land.”

Guy brought a goblet of wine to his lips, smiling at Archer who reminded him of the old Robin. “I envy you, brother. You still have dreams which I lost years ago.”

Archer grinned. “I am not Robin Hood, but there is something Robin and I have in common – our belief that we can improve lives of many people and protect those whom we love.” He paused, his face revealing bitterness as he thought of the changes in the hero. “I know that Robin is disillusioned, but I am sure there is part of him that still wants to fight for peace, for England, and for the downtrodden.”

Marian measured Archer with a skeptical look. “I would love to think so, but I doubt that.”

“I agree,” Guy chimed in.

“I still hope that one day we will see the old Robin,” Archer persevered. “I know that there is no absolute justice and peace, but I want to do as much as I can to make England a better place.”

Allan entered the conversation. “We are Robin Hood. We will help him save England.”

Guy glanced at Allan in amazement; then he funneled his attention back to Marian. “England cannot be saved. Most likely, Prince John will become the king after King Richard’s passing, God bless our king. If Richard makes Prince Arthur his heir, John will try to kill his nephew. Anyway, there will be another Vaisey and many others who will rule in tyranny in Nottingham and other lands.”

Marian smiled morbidly. “I lost my dreams too. The old England is gone, and there is no coming back.”

Soon Guy and Archer excused themselves and left; Allan began to talk with other courtiers. 

Marian placed a silver empty goblet on the table, her eyes scanning the chamber. She veered her gaze to the large window, her eyes taking in the imposing outlines of the Maubergeonne Tower. As her gaze briefly fell on Robin and Melisende, her heart tightened in her chest. Wild deities of jealousy were suffocating her from the inside out, and she broke eye contact with Robin. Thank goodness, she thought fervently, that Robin and his wife were sitting at the opposite end of the chamber.

Thoughts of Robin began to plague Marian like bees in a flower garden. The past three months spent in Aquitaine awakened in her a wealth of various memories of Robin, which were both achingly fascinating and entirely heart-stirring for her. When Robin had lived in Aquitaine years ago, she had visited the court in Poitiers with her father and had spent two months there with Robin. Now Marian was bathing in nostalgia for the loveliness of her early youth, and she had to close her eyes against the unwanted sting of tears.

The sounds of an exotic Provencal song pulled Marian out of her reverie. She again caught herself on the thought that she wanted to be anywhere but not in the banqueting hall, her heart longing to escape.

Allan queried her, “Daydreaming, Marian?”

Marian managed a smile. “Yes, I was remembering the days of my early youth. I was here, at the court, once.” She lowered her voice that quivered as musically as a harp string as she went on. “It was a great time in my life, and I would go back in time in a heartbeat if I could.”

Allan studied her closely. “You were visiting Robin in Poitiers, right?”

In a quavering voice, she corroborated, “Yes; it was a long time ago.”

Allan nodded. “This is exactly what I thought.”

“I am not a seasoned courtier, but I like Queen Eleanor’s court, but I love this place,” she said, sipping some wine. She had grown up in Nottingham, in the local noble community, and had been sheltered by Sir Edward; yet, when she visited Robin in Aquitaine that had charmed her. But today she couldn’t enjoy entertainments and the splendor of the court.

 “Robin is not yours,” Allan reminded her. “I know that you are like a frail bird with a broken wing after Much’s death, but there is nothing Robin can do for you. Although he is mourning for Much too, he cannot be with you because he is married. He cannot fix you. But you are strong enough to cope without him.”

Marian wasn’t astounded that Allan was able to read her thoughts so well; he had been her only friend in Nottingham after Robin and the outlaws had departed to the Holy Land. “You are correct, Allan. I know that Robin and I cannot be together, but I can be happy serving England and my people.” However, a gnawing doubt lingered in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t voice it.

§§§

Wishing to find solitude, Marian set off from the great hall and headed to the vast royal gardens. The bright moon hung over the garden, full and lustrous, its sweeping light making the water in fountains shine like liquid silver. Her stroll in the garden was strongly reminiscent of the days when she had been in Aquitaine with Robin. Her eyes were taking in the foliage gleaming in the moonlight, and she could smell the deep rich fragrance of flowers. But this sweet scent that normally heartens one’s spirit disconcerted Marian; she tried to block thoughts of Robin, but she failed to deter the assault of her memories.

Tears of despair and pain welled up in her throat, behind her eyes, and Marian had to pause so that she could take a moment to force them all back. As she regained composure, she stomped towards a nearby alley of oaks and meadows. Her wild emotions churned and bubbled like a whirlpool inside her, but her tears were now under control. Marian couldn’t stop thinking of Robin, and his name was like a chant in her heart, giving her a sense of peace which, however, was not real because she could never be utterly happy, knowing that Robin, _her Robin_ , belonged to another woman.

She wandered aimlessly in the garden until she lost her way in a maze of paths and trees. She stopped near a small fountain and glanced around, marveling at the majestic gardens. All at once, her heart tingled with ineffable joy as she heard a familiar voice speaking to her in English – Robin’s voice.

“It is very late for a lady to be alone in the garden. Is that your way of seeking calmness and stillness after being in the ruckus of the court?” Robin asked softly, wishing to placate her.

She spun around, her eyes searching for Robin. Her gaze flew to him, her heart thumping so frantically that she feared it would burst. Robin was sitting on the bench, with his arms folded over his chest, staring steadily at her. Emotions overwhelmed her, and her heart blossomed like a flower at the thought that she was again alone with Robin, all the more in the romantic darkness, in the deserted area of the garden.

She eyed him with a dreamy smile on her face. As she was accustomed to seeing him in his green forest garb, it was still somewhat unusual for her to see him wearing court attire, but she liked him in these clothes. Robin was so attractive with his sandy hair roguishly falling over his forehead and his solemn pale blue eyes, his handsome face with those full sensuous lips. As her gaze traversed his figure from his head to his toe before returning to his eyes, she realized again that she loved Robin in a way she had never loved Guy, for Robin was her soulmate and her true love; she was only infatuated with Guy.

“Robin,” Marian called in a trembling voice.

Robin was struck by a dart of love and longing at the sight of his childhood sweetheart. He could barely contain his emotions, and his heart was thrumming like a hummingbird's wings.

As the moonlight fell upon an alluring Marian, he found himself engulfed in flames of desire, feeling as if every part of him were yearning to become one with her. As she stepped closer, he thought that Marian was a divine creature whom he loved since his adolescence. Now she was some twenty years old, and she was no longer a maiden or his betrothed, but a woman whose marriage had been annulled; yet, she was still his Marian in many ways, and their bond was still a strong emotional attachment. Marian was no half-opened rosebud but a woman in the full resplendence of her beauty, and he wanted her vehemently.

Robin pulled himself together and took a deep breath so as not to let his desire cloud his thinking. He asked teasingly, “Are you so scared that you prefer to talk to me from such a distance?”

Marian took a step to the bench where he sat. “Of course, I am not afraid of you.”

He forced himself to not show even a flicker of his real feelings. “Nothing could frighten the fearless Lady Marian.” He made a serious effort to look serious, but then he laughed at her. “Did everything change so much that you are scared to be with me without a chaperone? Or are you afraid of the darkness?”

She shot him an annoyed look. “Sometimes, I hate your wit, Robin.”

He looked over her slender figure, and a scalding fire ignited in his gaze. He glanced away for a moment to regain his control; then he swung his gaze back to her. “I can easily forgive you if you fear to be in the darkness, but it would be the tragedy of my life if you are terrified of me.” Despite his attempts to conceal his feelings, his flat voice had a note of disappointment and hurt that she might feel that way about him.

She took another step to him and now stood almost near the bench. “I didn’t expect to find you here. I thought that you are with Queen Eleanor and your wife in the great hall.”

“The Queen Mother and Melisende are on the banquet,” he enlightened in an official voice. “My wife has many admirers, and she can spend some time without me.”

Jealousy stirred in her heart. “I thought that Lady Melisende cares only for you.”

Robin felt his heart beating faster at the thought of his wife. He flashed his most charming smile and asserted proudly, “Of course, she loves me and only me.”

Marian immediately found herself in a cantankerous mood. His thinly disguised hint at her betrayal angered her, and the wrathful words came out of her mouth in a rapid stream. “Congratulations, Robin. I My life is a nightmare in which I suffer and live through all unimaginable travails of my mind. Here, at Queen Eleanor’s court, I feel as if I were drowning in a deep river. I wish I lived on an island surrounded by a sea, without people who want to upend my life.” She paused for a moment and inhaled sharply. “I escaped from the palace to find freedom for some time.” She paused as her emotions filled her to the brim. With as much fortitude as she could muster, she went on. “Yet, I met you here, and you ruined my moment of peace. I thank you for that, Robin Hood.” She spun around, intending to leave.

“Stay,” she heard his plea, and it made her froze, her heart hammering harder. “Come here.” She saw him motioning her to sit on the bench next to him. “It has been a long time since we last spoke in private.”

She turned to him. One of her brows lifted in surprise, and then her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she ominously growled, “What? You think that you can convince me to stay? Maybe it will be better for you if I leave, or you risk to be saddled with me for another hour.”

Robin braced himself for her anger. At least now everything was out in the open, and he knew what she felt at the moment and why she had come to the garden. “I am sorry if my words unsettled you.”

She sighed dejectedly. “I should say no to you, but I won’t.” A quick flash of pain crossed her face, but she conquered it. “I have a proclivity for talking to you when I should not.”

Marian was tempted by his heartfelt invitation a lot, even though it wasn’t the right thing to be with him in the dark and lonely garden, in such a potentially compromising situation. Yet, she craved to talk to him, and she longed for his touch and kiss, his voice and the presence. Even though they were no longer together and Robin was a married man, there were many memories and events which had joined them together forever. Deep emotions roiled through her body, and her eyes were smoldering with the rampant heat of desire; with effort, she reined in his passion and brought his feelings under control.

She covered the distance between them and sat down on the bench. Now she could see his face so close that she lost her breath for a few heartbeats. “What are you doing here, Robin?" Her voice was a bit hoarse.

He looked directly into her eyes, and a languid smile spread across his visage. “I needed to think.”

She had that singular sort of smile on her face that sent Robin‘s heart racing. As he smiled back at her, she dissolved in a sea of desire, but, with great effort, she managed to push it away. Yet, her pulse quickened in barred excitement, and she wished him to take her with all the fire and thoroughness with which he fought a war for England and King Richard. Being close to Robin was like standing in a sunbeam, and the warmth of this imaginary sun was contained within her body, heart, and soul only when she was with him.

“What were you thinking about?” she inquired, her eyes warily sliding to a tall oak, whose roots peeped out, its verdant leaves glistening in the moonlight.

Robin averted his eyes and stared into the darkness. “I remembered Much,” he replied in such a low voice that it vibrated in his chest, but Marian could hear him very well and glanced back at him.

They stared at each other, united in their abysmal grief over Much’s death. His eyes filled with tears, and tears welled in her eyes as well. They were haunted by the heart-rending scene of Much dying in Robin’s arms. But while Marian was simply mourning the loss of her friend, Robin’s pain went to the very depths of his heart, for he had lost not only his friend but also part of himself too. In the past few months, they never spoke about the tragic events in Pontefract Castle, and they never spent time together.

Tears brimmed in her eyes as Marian leaned closer to Robin and took his hand in hers. “I know what you feel, Robin. I am mourning for Much, too. You are so moody, and so am I; one moment we may be merry like hummingbirds; the next, we are sullen and secretive if we remember Much.”

Chasmal grief washed over Robin like a violent ocean wave. “It is ultimately my fault that Much died,” he pronounced desperately. He was clinging to her hand, as if it were the last straw in an ocean of despair. “Much followed me and believed in my fight. He died because he believed in Robin Hood and in Robin of Locksley – he believed in me.” He sighed morosely. “The idea of Robin Hood destroyed my best friend.”

“Robin, you shouldn’t–”

Robin interrupted her. “Much went to Pontefract not because he joined me in my mission to bring King Richard home.” He sighed sorrowfully. “He could have stayed with Eve in Northampton after my return to England, but he preferred to leave her and be with me in order to protect me.”

Marian’s heart constricted in anguish, and she struggled to resist the urge to wrap her arms around him. “Much would have followed you to the ends of the world.”

Robin fixed his gaze at a large flowerbed of red and white roses. “Robin Hood always saves kingdoms, kings, and queens, but his friends die.” He laughed bitterly. “Why does a hero fail to save his best friend?”

“You are alive because God wanted you to live while Much’s time on earth was over.”

He glanced back at her. His shoulders sagged as if the weight they bore were too heavy for them. “Much was a better man than I can ever be. He deserved to have a long, happy life.” He drew his hand through his hair. “God made a wrong choice when he took Much’s life while letting me survive my mortal wound.”

“Robin, you are an utter fool,” Marian declared, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Much would have been very angry with you now if he heard you now. He sacrificed himself to let you and me live, out of his love for you. He would have been distraught to watch the torture you are inflicting on yourself.”

Robin felt another twinge of guilt stab at his heart. “Much would have berated me for doing that.”

“I am sure that Much can see us now. He must be furious at you, Robin.”

“When I was a boy, my father once told me that people become stars after death.” He looked heavenward, as if he were trying to find Much among countless shimmering stars in the huge expanse of the night canvass. “Maybe Much became one of these stars, and I can find him now in the sky.”

Marian’s grinding sense of worry was replaced with the soothing coolness of relief, for he seemed to have calmed down a bit. “Much will always be in our hearts.”

Robin smiled slightly. “Every time I look up, at the sky, I think that Much watches me.”

Marian and Robin didn’t speak for a while; their minds drifting back to Much and their happy childhood. They were giving tribute to the heroic man who had saved them a few months ago in Pontefract.

Marian demanded, “Please promise me that you will stop blaming yourself for Much’s death.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I cannot.”

“If anyone is guilty of Much’s death, it is me,” she choked out, thoroughly distressed. Tears were trickling down her cheeks, and she was on the verge of breaking down. Right now, Robin could feel the intense wave of guilt she emitted. “Vaisey threatened to kill me, and you shielded me from that arrow! You wanted to save me from Vaisey, and Much craved to save both you and me!”

Robin tossed his head. “No! Please don’t say that, Marian!” he begged her, his eyes full of a pain that didn’t seem like it would ever go away. “I would have done anything to save you! I would have died for you!”

“Robin, you…” Her voice faltered. After a moment’s pause, she resumed speaking. “You are such a handsome, loyal, noble-minded, brave, foolish, compassionate, arrogant, foolhardy, and strong man…” She paused again, letting out a long breath. After a moment’s contemplation, she told him what was really on her mind since his resurrection. “I was such a fool that I didn’t understand you completely before.”

He smiled at her with a smile that disrobed all his heartache and pain. “It is my fault as well. I have never been honest with you.”

Marian took a deep breath, her eyes drinking in his handsome features, her heart thumping; fresh tears came into her cheeks. The words coming out of his mouth filled her to the brim with pure happiness. Instinctively, Robin shifted on the bench closer to Marian, and he glanced into her eyes full of tears; he knew that she was crying for him, for what they could have together but had lost.

Robin’s eyes met Marian’s, and his thumb caressed her cheek. “Marian,” he breathed.

Marian and Robin stared at each other as if ensorcelled by some vision. They were united in their grief and longing for the old days. They could see the reflection of their undying devotion in each other’s eyes, and it seemed to them that the warmth of a mysterious deity circulated through their veins. They knew that it was the deity of love, for their love was indispensable to their nature, like the air they breathed.

As Robin took in the loveliness of her features, his lips curled into a contented smile, his eyes so filled with such a tenderness that she allowed a soft low moan to escape her lips. Suddenly, he made the first move and captured her lips with his hungrily, sweeping her into a whirlwind of frenzied passion. All too soon, he stopped and pulled away slightly for a split second, both of them gasping for air. In a space of a heartbeat, his lips were at her throat, and she arched, stretching her neck out as far as possible. His mouth then moved up to her ear, and he kissed the tender spot just below it after sweeping her hair aside.

Her name floated from his lips as he stared into her dazzled eyes that widened at the blue fire in his, at the unguarded expression of passion and devotion. Breathlessly, Marian watched his mouth hastily descend to hers again, his lips warm and hard. Marian flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back possessively like it was the last time she would, and he deepened the kiss. His arms tightened around her, and she trembled, her blood and body singing with a sensual excitement and need for more. This kiss was not like tender kisses they had shared during their two betrothals: he was kissing her as if he were going to consume her as their bodies clamored for fulfillment and their blood thickened.

Robin was the first one to come to his senses. He pulled away from Marian, although she instinctively melded herself closer to him, but he abruptly drew back again. His eyes glowed feverishly as he glanced into her intoxicating eyes that, God help him, bewitched him like those of a sorceress. He felt an acute pain penetrating his soul at the thought of what he had just done. He kissed Marian when he was married to Melisende! Their kisses constituted adultery, and he couldn’t forgive himself – would never forgive himself for betraying his wife tonight. Now he exuded more guilt than he had imagined himself capable of.

An inexplicable pain – the pain of her unsatisfied need for him – lanced through Marian. A poignant longing for him surged through her, and she discovered that she wanted Robin as much as she had ever wanted him before. As their gazes locked, her eyes grew fantastically open: they were like windows to her soul, and all the nuances of all her innermost feelings were revealed to Robin. Feeling like she was laid bare for him, she averted her eyes, knowing that he was watching her and feeling that his look had changed.

Marian turned to Robin, and her ghostly sapphire eyes filled with tears while still staring at him like she had never seen him before, snaring him in their depths until her gaze shifted once more. She blinked away the humiliating threat of tears as her eyes lit with determination to be strong. She looked at him again, but her composure instantly slipped a notch, and Robin could see her turbulent and plaintive eyes that were filled with love and were soft with an entreaty for something he couldn’t quite comprehend.

Their love wasn’t God's little joke – they did still love one another deeply. They had just committed an act of adultery, and temptation could prevail again. Their hearts were vibrant with passion that they had to annihilate. A blur of sweet words, given promises, warm embraces, and heartbreaking separations flickered through their minds in a montage of memories. Then came repentance of ever hurting each other and wanting one another when they had no right to be together. And then, suddenly, they both were eager to imagine that their love was only a gracious fable, except that it wasn’t.

Robin and Marian climbed to their feet and exchanged a soulful, ever-penetrating glance.

Robin broke eye contact. “No,” he said curtly. His mouth had twisted. “I am ashamed.”

Trembling in mortification, Marian blushed to the roots of her hair. “Robin, please don’t close yourself off to me… Don’t do this to me…” Her voice came to a halt.

He stared back at her and lamented, “God, what have I done? Please forgive me, Marian.”

“Robin… Robin…” she kept repeating his name as she made a step to him.

“Marian…” he began but trailed off; his tone contained a silky thread of warning; he took a step back. In a fit of contrition due to his guilty conscience over his actions, he murmured, “I am very sorry… It will never happen again.” He had conflicting emotions: it had been a moment of weakness, and he had surrendered to his passions; nevertheless, he had enjoyed kissing her, although now he was unbelievably incensed at himself.

Marian considered the implication of his words. “Don’t say that, Robin.” But her real thoughts mirrored Robin’s: she condemned them for their actions, but she didn’t regret that he had kissed her.

“You want to know what I feel, Marian?” He swallowed hard, hoping that she didn’t decipher the shakiness in his voice. “I will tell you the truth. I didn’t control myself very well because you were too close.”

“Robin…” Marian rose to her feet and stepped to him, but he backed away from her.

“I am trying to not stay alone with you because it is dangerous for us.” There was a tremble in his voice, his eyes were blazing with fire. “When I told you that I haven’t forgotten you, I wasn’t lying.”

Marian didn’t want to lose the precious connection with him – their love. “Robin, I haven’t forgotten you either.” Before she had finished, she was fighting back tears. “I tried very hard to fall out of love with you, but I failed. When I am so close to you, these feelings obliterate any coherent thought in my head.”

Robin could see tears in her sapphire eyes, feeling as if he were drowning in their depths; yet, he wasn't going to lose control again. “I had never known what it is to be torn between two ladies before I married Melisende,” he stated, surprised how calm he sounded; he finally managed to get a grip of his emotions. “I had never understood what you felt for Guy and for me and why you were so confused about your feelings. But now I know what it is to be torn between two women.”

“Robin, you have always been too special to me. I will never forget the night we spent together.” By the end of her admission, her cheeks were flaming bright red.

He sucked in a staggered breath. “What?”

She gazed reverently into his eyes and blurted out, “ _I know now that I have always loved you_.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I began to understand that after your death. When you came back, I realized that I lost you forever, that I lost _the love of my life_.”

Robin’s intense gaze was unfathomable in the darkness. “What?” he gasped.

“Robin, you have always been special to me…” Her voice trailed off. She desperately searched for a way to articulate her feelings. “I know that we cannot be together, but we cannot forget each other either. We are trapped between the past and the present.”

Robin sighed. “That is true," he said flatly, resting his eyes on her face. Then he smiled ever so slightly. “But the old Robin is dead.” He sighed heavily as he carefully considered his next words. “Death brought clarity into my head and also changed my priorities in life.”

“I know.” She dreaded to hear what he would say next.

His expression evolved into feigned calmness. Uneasy emotions churned inside him as he wondered whether he should finish the speech he had formulated a few moments ago. How could he? She already felt hurt. Yet, they needed candor between them, and, as matters stood, she deserved the truth.

Robin was incapable of lying to her blatantly. “Marian, part of me will always love you, but my feelings are no longer as strong and vibrant as they once were.” His voice quavered, and a melancholic smile tugged at his lips. “I love my wife, Marian. I don’t need you as much as I need her.”

Marian gave a nod, tipping her chin up with an amazing dignity for a heartbroken woman. She knew that he wasn’t lying. She had lost him, he had lost her, and their romance was over. Yet, the feelings she still had for him were stronger than his residual affection for her. She steeled herself against all these emotions, taking her comfort in the fact that she didn’t need Robin as much as before in spite of still loving him.

A grin manifested on her face, then vanished. “ _Everything is a choice_. We made our choices, and we must live with them. I don’t regret what we had together, but I think I can live without you.”

“Good for you. I wish you all the best.” Robin bowed to Marian, then swiveled and walked away. Marian was his past, and he would never completely get over her, but his future lay with his wife and their son.

Marian stood near the bench for a while, watching Robin disappear into the dark garden. Maybe she would be happier on her own, she thought. She was reaping what she had sown because she herself had left Robin. And if any peace can be found without feeling the bittersweet weariness of her life, Marian would probably find it in serving the people of Nottingham. Nevertheless, in the dead of night, she would always dream of Robin and of finding herself again in the powerful grip of a mesmerizing passion.

With these thoughts, Marian slowly started her way back to the palace. All of a sudden, she stopped rooted as she saw Melisende standing near a nearby fountain. “Lady Melisende, how can I help you?”

Melisende looked expectantly at Marian, her face impassive, her eyes blank. Her emotions were a tangled skein of love, hurt, and anger, but she wasn’t going to look vulnerable in front of Marian. She had eavesdropped enough, she had seen Marian and Robin kissing, and the vision of her husband and her rival for her husband’s heart had almost broken her. But she knew that Robin wanted to be with her, which pacified her anger and made the forgiving streams of warmth softly trickle through the walls of her heart.

Melisende responded nonchalantly, “Excuse me for my intrusion on such a private moment you had with my husband, Lady Marian. I heard your wonderful conversation in the garden. I hoped that Robin’s love would guarantee that I would never have to meet the fate of an abandoned woman, and I was right.”

Marian summoned all her self-control as a prickly awareness stirred her mind – the woman who vied with her for Robin’s affections had heard everything. “It is an unequivocal hint that Robin is yours.”

“I am not offended, Lady Marian, and I am not going to argue with you.”

An embarrassed Marian felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “Lady Melisende, I swear on all I hold sacred that Robin will never stray. He is married to you, and I will never trench upon your happiness.”

Melisende scrutinized Marian’s face that she could see rather well in the moonlight. “I know that, and I respect you.” She elucidated in a conciliatory tone, “Don’t think that only your heart is heavy. My heart is aching as well because I will never have Robin’s whole heart, and no woman will have it.” Then Melisende swung around and stalked away without a backward glance, leaving a shaken Marian alone.

§§§

Not only Melisende had heard Marian’s conversation with Robin. When both Marian and Robin had left, two men appeared from behind the trees. They were Archer and Guy, who had been there when Marian and Robin had appeared, talking about their mother, Ghislane, and about Guy’s childhood.

“What a great insight into the lives of Marian and Robin,” Archer uttered as they stopped near a large nearby flowerbed of roses and lavenders.

Guy looked up, at the dark canvas; then he glanced back at Archer. “I am glad that we saw them tonight.” Robin’s hold over Marian was too strong to break it. He didn’t want to always be _the second best for Marian_.

Archer’s black brows shot up. “Really?”

Guy folded his arms over his chest. “You think I am lying to you, right?”

“I didn’t expect to hear that from you.”

 “A year ago, the truth would have decimated me,” Guy said tiredly. His shoulders slumped. “But now everything is different. I changed and learned to live a life filled with goodness, humanity, and meaning.”

Archer rewarded his half-brother with an adoring smile. “I am so proud of you, Guy."

Archer and Guy stumbled into Robin near the entrance to the Maubergeonne Tower. In order not to block the way for the guests who walked in and out of the palace, they retired to a nearby terrace.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asked, his eyes flitting between Guy and Archer.

Archer grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, we had a stroll in the gardens. It was stuffy in the great hall.”

A suspicious Robin was quiet for a moment. “Well, the abundant scent of perfume and wine is not pleasant.”

“Very unpleasant,” Guy’s voice rumbled.

A smile spread across Archer’s face, reaching both his eyes and lips. “I am extremely impressed by the court! This is the best place in the world!”

Robin’s expression evolved into wistfulness. “I have many happy memories about the court. I miss those carefree times of my youth; it is a pity that these days are gone.”

Guy smiled listlessly. “I cannot say that the Queen Mother’s court makes me dream of the old days, but it is definitely very beautiful here. It is a good break before a new battle.”

Archer sent a sly glance towards his brothers. “Good God, I am a poor thing! We are at the court of love, and I don’t even have a mistress!”

Guy shot Archer a condescending look. “What are you talking about, Archer? Do you have some shame?”

Robin grinned indulgently. “Guy, be more understanding of our brother’s desires! You and I were like him in adolescence.” His eyes flew to Archer. “Archer, you can find many willing women at the court. I had many affairs with Poitevin ladies, and I can introduce you to some of them if you want.”

Archer regarded Robin sardonically Robin. “Robin, I want to find a sweet beauty!” He smirked. “I already have a woman in mind. She is Lady Catherine de Mathefelon, Lady Melisende’s lady-in-waiting.”

As if he had received a douche of icy water, Robin stiffened, for Archer had referred to his former lover; it didn’t matter whom his half-brother had meant. Should he abet Archer’s lecherous desires? Women flocked to him like bees to honey, and he had had his share of affairs. Archer was young, his blood was hot, and he was willing to embark on amorous escapades. “I can help you if you want, Archer. However, you must not settle for a promiscuous way of life because overindulgence renders men effeminate and weak.”

Archer’s mouth curved wryly. “Don’t worry, brother. I won’t become a philanderer.”

Guy shook his head disapprovingly. “Damn you, Robin!” he grumbled without hate in his voice. “I had affairs in my youth, but I have never been like you. Don’t teach our brother to take an example from you!”

Robin smirked. “I am sure that if we look at the matter from another angle, we will see that you are not so different from me. After all, you are older than me, Guy.”

“Say whatever you want, Robin,” Guy growled. “I don’t care.”

“On a serious note, Guy,” Robin jumped to another topic, “what are you going to do?”

“Ah, this…” Archer only sighed.

Guy heaved a sigh. “I have already made my choice. I won’t go against the king’s order.”

Robin sighed. “It is a wise decision, Guy; but not because I don’t want Marian and you to be together.”

“I know,” Guy purred. “I… don’t want to marry Marian anymore.”

A surprised Robin raised a brow. “I have never thought that I would ever hear that from you.”

Archer's eyes were oscillating between Robin and Guy. He was pleased that Guy had made up his mind.

“Well, you see, Robin, everything can happen,” Guy retorted with a smile.

“Stranger things happened.” A distracted Robin examined the terrace illuminated with the dim light from flickering torches that lined the pathway to the palace. Then his eyes flew to Guy. “Maybe it is for the better for each of us,” he mused aloud, more to himself than to Guy.

Guy couldn’t disagree. “Exactly.” As he detected vulnerability in Robin’s eyes despite Robin’s impassive features, his heart sank. “Whatever happens usually happens for best.”

Robin smiled softly. “Certainly.”

In a tense, pressing silence, Guy and Archer watched Robin walk away.

A bewildered Archer inquired, “You didn’t say that we saw him and Marian.”

“He doesn’t need to know that,” Guy said curtly. “Let’s go to the great hall.”

The guests were enjoying the music of troubadours when they appeared in the banqueting hall.

Archer tore his gaze from the musicians to his half-brother. “I love the music of troubadours.”

Guy ran his eyes over the chamber. “Me too.”

Guy’s gaze fell at Queen Eleanor, Melisende, and Robin who sat together at the main table, listening to the song, but Megan wasn’t there. Guy lingered his gaze at Robin who plunged into an artistic delight, enjoying the performance. He thought that Marian remained in the garden alone, but his mind swiftly drifted back to Megan. His eyes were frantically searching for Megan – right now he wanted to see only her.

Suddenly, Guy felt his heart thundering in his chest as his eyes found Megan. She stood alone in the corner, in the opposite part of the hall, leaning against the tapestried wall. Tonight she wore a tight gown of silver brocade with a low V-cut neckline and an ample skirt trimmed with gold braid at the hem. Guy let his eyes dwell on her bosom adorned with a massive oval cut diamond necklace; then his gaze traveled to her head. His eyes drank in her long dark hair that fell down her shoulders and her back in spite of all the diamonds and sapphires which were carefully weaved throughout the length of her hair.

Archer intercepted Guy’s gaze. “Go to Meg and talk to her,” he prompted.

That goaded him into action, and Guy nodded wordlessly. As he stalked towards her, his eyes were fixed on Megan’s face that was alight with gladness as she listened to the music. Guy smiled at the thought of how much Megan loved the art of troubadours; passion for life blossomed in her young heart.

“Meg, I was looking for you,” Guy began as he stopped a small distance from her.

Megan was in a state of dazzled astonishment. Nascent hope flooded through her, but she hurriedly suppressed it. She gazed into his eyes, and the warmth in them encased her. “Did you talk to Lady Marian?” she asked in English, even though she preferred Norman-French. She spoke in English only because the majority of the courtiers didn’t know this language, and she didn’t wish them to be overheard.

Guy shook his head. “I didn’t talk to her, but I saw and heard enough.”

“I am sorry, but I don’t understand.” She turned her head to look at the Queen Mother.

A prominent troubadour from the southern France, Bernard de Ventadour, was singing “ _Can vei la lauzeta mover_ ” _(“When I see the lark joyfully moving its wings against the sun's rays…”)_ in _the trobar leu style_ , his tragic and most famous love song. It was the song about the knight's unrequited love for his lady.

_Can vei la lauzeta mover_

_de joi sas alas contra.l rai,_

_que s’oblid’ e.s laissa chazer_

_per la doussor c’al cor li vai,_

_ai! tan grans enveya m’en ve_

_de cui qu’eu veya jauzion,_

_meravilhas ai, car desse_

_lo cor de desirer no.m fon._

Megan’s mind was centered on the song. “ _Alas, I thought I knew so much about love, and really I know so little, for I cannot keep myself from loving her from whom I shall have no favor_ ,” she translated aloud, her heart palpitating with pain. She felt as if she were the knight from the song as her feelings for Guy seemed to be unrequited. “ _She has stolen from me my heart, myself, herself, and the world. When she took herself from me, she left me nothing but desire and a longing heart._ ”

Guy took a step to her and then put his hands on her shoulders, looking at her with rapture mingled with despair. “Meg, you cannot imagine how true this song is about me.”

_Ai, las tan cuidava saber_

_D'amor, e tan petit en sai,_

_Car eu d'amar no.m posc tener_

_Celeis don ja pro non aurai._

_Tout m'a mo cor, e tout m'a me,_

_E se mezeis e tot lo mon!_

_E can se.m tolc, no.m laisset re_

_Mas dezirer e cor volon ._

The troubadour started singing another verse. _“Never have I been in control of myself or even belonged to myself from the hour that she let me gaze into her eyes – that mirror that pleases me so greatly. Mirror, since I saw myself reflected in you, deep sighs have been killing me. I have lost myself, just as handsome Narcissus lost himself in the fountain.”_ Megan’s heart froze inside her chest at the thought that she was probably doomed to never be loved, like the knight from the song, but she must not show her emotions.

Megan exhaled a sigh; her chin was tilted upward, her mouth compressed into a tight line. “Do you want me to say that this song is about me?” She reacted as if he had stung her: she jerked back with undisguised agitation. “You know about my true feelings for you, Guy! Are you relishing in torturing me?”

Guy’s confidence changed into dismay. “Never.”

Insecure, she stared unseeingly ahead. “Then what do you want?”

“I have missed you,” he announced sincerely.

Megan veered her amazed eyes to Guy. “Guy…” She quickly recovered from the shock. “Don’t lie to me just because King Richard commands you to marry me.”

“It is not a pretense, Meg,” he assured her.

Meanwhile, Queen Eleanor shifted her gaze to Guy and Megan. She smiled, thinking that they were a stunning couple. Eleanor then gazed at Bernard de Ventadour who stood near the main table. The queen looked back at Megan, thinking that the young lady whom she trusted and loved would be happy with Guy.

_De las domnas me desesper_

_ja mais en lor no.m fiarai;_

_c’aissi com las solh chaptener,_

_enaissi las deschaptenrai._

_Pois vei c’una pro no m’en te_

_vas leis que.m destrui e.m cofon_

_totas las dopt’e las mescre,_

_car be sai c’atretals se son._

The troubadour moved on to sing the next verse about the knight’s abject despair and the lack of trust to all women; he claimed that he wouldn't budge on his opinion. _“I despair of women, no more will I trust them, and just as I used to defend them, now I shall denounce them. Since I see that none aids me against her who destroys and confounds me, I fear and distrust them all for I know well they are all alike.”_

Megan glared at Guy. “Maybe you are considering two options.” Her voice was hushed. “You may disobey King Richard, or you may decide to turn your back on me after the wedding.” She was so nervous that her control was slipping; she thought she could cry one moment and the next scream in rage at the vicissitudes of fate. She strove to maintain a neutral façade, but she was failing miserably.

His eyes darkened in emotion. “I have been waiting for a meeting with you.”

She looked undisputedly abashed, and her countenance was for a moment tinctured with crimson before turning pale. “If you are kidding me, then you are a very cruel man.”

Guy’s face grew immensely serious. “Listen to me, Meg. I am not lying: I have been thinking of you.”

There was a clang of mistrust and almost anger in her voice. “Good grief, how can I believe you? If you want to woo me just because you must wed me, then please don’t do this. I don’t need your friendship, Guy.”

“I don’t need it either, Meg.”

She was eager to shed a few tears over the seeming hopelessness of her personal situation. "I cannot have what I want. My dreams will never come true.”

“That kiss in the forest meant everything to me,” he admitted in a throaty tone.

As the meaning of Guy’s words sank in, Megan said nothing in response. She thought that her heart would break from exhilaration at the thought that he did really want to see her.

Several more verses were sung while all the courtiers were listening closely to the long, sensitive rhythms of the song. Troubadours composed many love songs that glorified, cherished, and romantically seduced women. The magnificent clothing style of the ladies looking at their partners with passionate eyes, combined with indulgent manners, made the court of love fabulously fascinating for everyone.

_Pus ab midons no.m pot valer_

_precs ni merces ni.l dreiz qu’eu ai,_

_ni a leis no ven a plazer_

_qu’eu l’am, ja mais no.lh o dirai,_

_Aissi.m part de leis e.m recre;_

_mort m’a, e per mort li respon,_

_e vau m’en, pus ilh no.m rete,_

_chaitius, en issilh, no sai on._

When Bernard de Ventadour finished singing, the audience exploded in applause.

Guy looked warmly into Megan’s eyes, his heart swelling with love for her. “ _Since with my lady neither prayers nor mercy nor my rights avail me, and since she is not pleased that I love her, I will never speak of it to her again_ ,” he translated, smiling at her. “ _Thus I part from her, and leave; she has killed me, and by death I respond, since she does not retain me, I depart, wretched, into exile, I don’t know where_.”

Megan looked as vulnerable and helpless as a girl, and Guy wished only to take her into his arms. "Guy, you are seducing me with sweet words, but I don’t want to laugh,” she said, her voice shaking. Unshed tears pooled in those deep blue eyes of hers, and his breath caught in his throat. “Like in this song, I should run away from you before I burn in my love for you, Guy.”

"Good gracious, Meg!" Guy spoke desolately. “The words from the song mean that I left behind the past and the woman who could never make me happy – Marian. I am free!”

She gasped in amazement. “What?”

His face lit up with an endearing smile. “I left the past behind. I will marry you, willingly and gladly.”

"What?" she repeated.

Guy groaned in frustration that she didn’t believe him. “Unlike many others, you usually can see through me, read my thoughts, and feel my pain better than anyone else. Do you not see the sincerity in my eyes?”

The candlelight fell on her cheekbones and awakened a gleam of happiness in her eyes. But then her jaw clenched, and ire was apparent in her tone as she bit out, “I want to believe you, but I cannot. Why do you need me if you love Lady Marian?”

With a convincing grin, he eased her suspicions by admitting, “Marian will never forget Robin. Nothing would be more hurting for me than having a sham of a marriage, which is why I won’t marry Marian.” He leaned closer to her, his lips yearning to meet hers. “I don’t love her.”

“Is that true?” It was a long time since she felt as happy and alive as she was feeling now.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling radiantly at her. He outstretched his arms, pointing all around the room. “And please don’t tell me that you don’t want to be my wife. I cannot imagine that you would prefer one of these lords to me.”

Megan was in an exultant mood, her visage tinged with a holy and unutterable happiness. "You will never have to share my affections with anyone," she promised. "I never was in love before I met you. Otherwise, I would have married someone else a long time ago. But I dreamed of marrying a man I loved him."

“There is nobody like you, Meg.”

“Oh yes, that is true!” She chuckled and then paused to let out a long, merry laugh.

Guy smiled tenderly. “Meg, you have such beautiful eyes.”

Something about Guy’s voice informed Megan there was more that needed to be said and discussed in private. As he reached out a hand for hers, a blissful warmth enveloped her, giving her a sense of security she had rarely known before. “It would be a dream just to live all my life with you.”

He offered in an implicative voice, “I think we need to talk.”

She inclined her head. “I know one lovely place in the gardens. Let’s go there.”

Guy cursed in his mind, the vile oath doing naught to appease the intensity of his frustration. He didn’t want to return to the garden where he had seen Robin and Marian, but he didn’t object and nodded.

§§§

Megan and Guy slowly walked through the moonlit royal gardens. Soon they reached a small green terrace that neighbored with another garden enclosed by a wall, with an opened gate at the very centre. As they walked through the gate and stopped near a bench, a night breeze blew the sweet scent of flowers over them. The garden was full of flowers that bloomed in a blend of red and white on one side of the garden; the other side was full of green and blue, all contained with bricks and lush grass walking paths. It was really a cloistered place where one could face their inner struggles and talk about a future; it was a place where one could find something calming and inspiring.

Her eyes effervescing with joy, Megan raised them to the vault of the blue-black sky where starts were shimmering like a million diamonds against black velvet. Her lips parted slightly, and she thanked God for the happiest day in her life which she had believed would never come. Then she glanced at Guy and smiled mirthfully, motioning him to take a seat on the bench. The moon shone with serene splendor and shed its silver light all around, and Guy admired Megan’s glorious beauty.

Guy took her hand in his and planted a kiss on her palm. He then glanced into her eyes and gave her a slow, tender smile. “It has been a long time since I felt so content,” he whispered.

A sympathetic Megan smiled at him compassionately. “You suffered too much, Guy.”

A shadow crossed his face. “After Isabella and I were banished from Nottinghamshire, I took an oath of revenge on Robin,” he continued in a voice laced with bitterness. “I served Vaisey only because I wanted to re-take the Gisborne lands back and to gain power, thinking that it was more important to me than happiness.” He sighed. “I killed many people in cold blood and very brutally. I became a murderer in the Forest of Rouvnay and in the city of Angers where I killed many of Richard’s knights.”

“I recall that you beheaded that knight at Vaisey’s behest.” She knew Guy’s biography pretty well because he had been very frank with her during their imprisonment. A surge of intense, righteous anger rushed through her, and she blustered, “Vaisey is the scourge of mankind! He perpetrated a great many bad things, and he is irredeemable! He must be burning in hellfire for his crimes!”

He lowered his head in shame. “That night damned me.”

Megan could feel the worry and remorse radiating from him. “This monster cornered you.”

He nodded and looked away, at the stone wall of the terrace. “I was fearful of escaping from Vaisey because I owed him a huge debt.” He paused, sighing deeply. “Well, you know this story.”

She just flat-out hated Vaisey. “I do.”

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Guy shook his head. “After the fire at Gisborne Manor, I didn’t believe in happiness. Vengeance was my only dream, but the power of executing it was beyond my grasp for years. When I robbed Robin of his titles and lands, I was an idiot to think that I had won and defeated Robin. With a sinking feeling, I realized that my revenge was meaningless and left me hollow.”

“You didn’t think that you can ever be happy,” she finished for him.

“You are absolutely right, Meg.”

“Let me guess what you experienced,” she continued. She set about diffusing his crestfallen mood. “You wondered why you were homeless while others had a family and didn’t need to roam around Normandy and work for a piece of bread. You thought that they were lucky and happy, and you envied them.”

Guy looked torn between amusement and vexation. She understood him so well, and that made him happy and also irked him as he didn’t like feeling as if she had peeled him open and now all his fears and sorrows lay bare. “Yes,” he supplied uneasily. “When I was very young, I wanted to have a family the most; to feel that I wasn’t alone and there was someone who loved me.” He sighed. “But I wasn’t fortunate enough to have these things.”

“Vaisey couldn’t make you feel even content with your life and your choices.”

“Of course not,” he acknowledged.

She hesitated to ask but then spelled it out. “Were you happy when you married Marian?”

Guy smirked darkly. “I was overjoyed only at the beginning. “I quickly realized that she lived missed Robin.” He smiled sadly. “I naively believed that I would be able to make her forget Robin.”

Her eyes wise and intelligent, Megan spoke rhetorically. “Passion is not love: it sizzles and fizzles out quickly. If there is no love between a husband and his wife, imminent danger of separation lurks behind every corner. Loveless often marriages fall apart; then spouses are stuck in misery and must face the necessity to survive in a loveless marriage.” She fell into silence for a moment. “Love is a much more stable thing – a thing of sacrifice, compromise, and understanding. Love is a much deeper feeling than passion. If you don’t share principles and values with your spouse, then they start experiencing severe conflicts.”

He scoffed glumly. “Now I know that.”

For a while, they didn’t speak, holding each other’s arms, their fingers entwined, as they listened to the distant sounds of the songs coming from the banqueting hall.

“Yeah, love is a complicated thing,” Megan broke the silence.

He nodded an affirmative. “I was very angry with Marian for loving Robin.” He sighed. “Only after Robin’s death in Acre, I realized why Robin was always in her heart.”

A look of confusion flitted over her pretty features. “Did she confess that she still loved Robin?”

“No!” Guy growled, suddenly angry at himself. “I simply realized that nobody can give me redemption, and I have to earn it. I pray God will grant me the remission of my sins.” Unwelcome recollections of all the pain he had endured and the vile deeds he had committed crowded his mind. He grimaced and attempted to block these thoughts. “I also changed my opinion about Robin: he is truly a great man, a better man than I can ever be. I understood why Marian respects, admires, and loves him so much.” He looked down, on the lawn. “I began to doubt that Marian’s feelings for Robin would ever fade away.”

She raised a brow. “ _Is it a lingering love_?”

Guy turned his gaze to her. “I think so, Meg.”

“My father felt the same for your mother for a long time. That’s why he wedded my mother in ten years after he had broken his betrothal to Lady Ghislane.”

He arched a brow in bemusement. “Interesting.”

She smiled. “This is one of the reasons why my father always felt sympathetic to you.”

“Now I understand why he asked me to take care of you before his death.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, remembering the fight in Nottingham when Megan’s father had been killed. They were united in their grief, their hearts aching for the loss of another honest man.

“I quickly figured out that Marian loves Robin,” she admitted.

At that Guy snorted. “Even though Marian and Robin changed, part of them will always cling to the old days and to the love they lost.”

Megan nodded. “They both are dreamers, Guy, even though they became disillusioned dreamers.”

He gave a husky, knowing chuckle. “Dreamers struggle to accept harsh reality, and they often fail.”

“Robin and Marian lost their dreams, and they don’t like what they see in the world.”

He lifted his hand and let his fingers slowly caress the side of her face. “Indeed.”

“Women like extraordinary men,” she speculated, staring into space. “Robin is an unusual man.”

He forewarned her, “I may become jealous, Meg.”

Megan turned to him and scoffed. The sparkle in her blue eyes indicated how much she enjoyed his jealousy. “I don’t think that being jealous would be nice of you. Be careful, Guy.” She poked him playfully in the ribs. “You are a free and good man.” She smiled mischievously. “But if you don’t stop saying that, I will consider myself free to claim that you are becoming a man who is not able to give me both the moon and all the stars shimmering in the sky. But I covet to have all these things.”

He appreciated her wit and was charmed by it. “Oh, Meg…”

She spoke wisely. “Jealousy shows your inner insecurity, and it contains more of self-love than of love. And you don’t want me to think that you are still as disgustingly selfish as the old Guy was.” As Guy bobbled his head in understanding, she continued, “Never underestimate the power of jealousy which can destroy a relationship, Guy. I have only you in my heart, and you have no reason to be jealous.” She put a finger to his lips and traced the contours of his mouth. “If you are jealous, you torture yourself and others.”

Guy had been awfully jealous of Marian to Robin; it had been a great torture for him to think of Marian’s affair with his ex-archenemy. Megan loved only him, and that was a soothing balm to his heart. His face then turned pensive. “I knew that I was committing terrible crimes while I served Vaisey, and my heart was in a constant, turbulent riot against all the things this devil forced me to do!” He broke off, raw emotion in his eyes. He sighed and went on. “I always blamed others for my own sins and mistakes, and I saw my redemption in Marian and her purity. However, after the events in Acre, my world began to change, and I no longer saw a guiding light in Marian.”

“You have always been a strong man, but you were not willful enough to break from the past.”

“That is true. Robin gave me a chance when he beseeched the king to spare my life. Marian pushed me to redemption as well.” He drew a deep breath. “And then I began to change.”

“You became your own savior, Guy.”

Guy stared at her with a smile. “Meg, are my savior too.”

Her eyes twinkled as if in mystification. “And what did I do for you?”

His eyes glowed in the moonlight. “Firstly, you saved my life, and you did that knowing about my heinous crimes. Secondly, you attracted my attention because I was genuinely interested in you. You charmed me, and I was unable to resist you.” He released a sigh. “Marian first attracted my attention because I knew that she was Robin’s former betrothed whom he abandoned to go fight in the Holy Land. Later, I fell in love with her, except that this love wasn’t real.”

“So you were interested only in me – just in me?” she asked incredulously.

“I swear it is true, Meg,” he confirmed. “I was exhilarated when you told me on the day of our execution in Nottingham that your heart belongs to me.”

Megan flashed a dazzling smile. “I did.”

“Later, you said that we were no longer dying and, thus, we could be only friends.”

She climbed to her feet, walked over to the distant wall of the terrace, and stopped there, leaning against the wall. He stood staring at her, not knowing what to do and think; she was looking at him strangely, almost woefully, but there were no tears in her eyes.

“Dear Meg,” Guy addressed her as he got to his feet. “Why did you run away from England?”

Megan’s eyes darkened with sudden ire, as if nightfall had settled in them. “Don’t you understand, Guy? I didn’t see any future for us. I was sure that you loved Marian and wanted to wed her.”  She smiled bitterly. “I had to protect myself from the heartbreak you could cause me.”

Guy stared at her with desperate eyes, and she could see a silent apology in them. His arms possessively encircled her and held her against his firm body. She rested her cheek against his broad chest, feeling the strength of his heartbeat and taking comfort in it.

“Forgive me for hurting you, Meg,” he whispered, stroking her hair.

She was melting in his arms, her thoughts dissolving. “There is nothing to forgive.”

She needed to know one thing. “I was already torn between you and Marian at that time.”

She looked at him with eyes that glistened with tears of happiness. “Really?”

“Yes,” he breached. “Marian somehow seemed distant, although I had some feelings for her.”

Megan’s visage shone with hope. “Can you love me… in this arranged marriage?”

Guy felt his body weakening for a brief moment, for he was too close to Megan, the gorgeous, beautiful, young, and yet innocent creature who had such a great power over him. “I feel deeply for you,” he said truthfully. “You cannot imagine how much I need you.”

Megan disentangled from their embrace and She looked into his face, and a sense of wonder overshadowed all her other emotions. “Guy…” she murmured, tears trickling down her cheeks in a torrent of relief, joy, and happiness.

A cloud came over the moon, and the black darkness reigned around. Yet, despite the darkness, Guy could still see tears running down Megan’s face, a fire burning in their hearts.

“Meg, I never had peace and happiness,” he said in a low coming from the deepest depths of him. “I always fought for something, even though my fight was often wrong and useless. My vile deeds put me in the cross hairs of many people who will probably never think of me as a good man. But all that I needed was some love and peace.” He lapsed into silence, his eyes lighting a shade in his apparent chagrin. “I used to think that Marian could give me peace, but I was mistaken.”

“But you wanted peace?”

His fingers trembling, Guy reached out almost timidly and gently touched her check. “And I found love, peace, and understanding in our relationship.” His voice turned lower. “I fought many battles and lost many of them, but I won the war – I changed myself.” He smirked. “But I am too tired to fight with all the doubts and pain associated with Marian – that won’t give me peace.”

Megan glanced into Guy’s eyes and spoke the sacred words that meant more to her than anything else. “I will love you until doomsday.”

Megan started shivering as pleasurable sensations sweeping through her as she was so close to the man she loved with all her heart. Guy cupped her face in his palms, and started planting featherlight kisses over her eyelids and cheeks. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her with an increasing desperation and a primal urgency. The feel of her lips beneath his brought him ambrosial delight; his tongue was exploring her mouth, inflaming them with passion. Her breathing was uneven, her body feeling as if it were being consumed by flames of love; it was a sweet madness, and Megan wanted it to go on and on. As Guy broke the kiss and looked down at her face, his eyes bore into hers, with an intensity that set her blood on fire.

Guy had fallen in love with Megan a while ago, but for some time, he had been fighting with his growing affection. He loved her deeply and unconditionally; he needed her desperately. He had realized that he had loved the idea of Marian, although indeed he did love her in his own way. Guy’s love for Marian was a strong, deep feeling, which was possessive, obsessive, and, most importantly, devastating. His love for Marian was a love for a pure–hearted virgin whom he needed to get absolution. He loved Marian as the ideal of what he wanted to have but couldn’t.

He smiled at the thought that _his love for Megan had never been his saving grace in a world of darkness_. His love for her was life-giving, peaceful, and ardent, as well as tender, caring, and all-absorbing. His love for her provided him with completeness, exaltation, hope, and delight; these precious feelings destroyed all the dark demons that had been tormenting him for years. He always felt happy with her, without pain and doubts. Guy could see the light of his life in Megan, and he couldn’t help but dream what it could give him in a future, feeling hopeful and euphoric.

Guy breathed in deeply until he could take in no more air. “ _I love you, Meg_ ,” he whispered.

Megan asked in a trembling voice, “Do you really love me?”

He nodded. “I do,” he responded with conviction, though with an odd shyness too. “My heart doesn’t belong to Marian or the idea of her.” He smiled blissfully. “It does belong to you.”

“ _Guy, I love you more than life itself_ ,” she answered, unable to prevent a muffled giggle from escaping.

He smiled. “Then, my lady, will you have me as your husband?”

She looked a little sheepish. “I will,” she consented.

Guy kissed her on her lips, putting all his ardor and devotion to that kiss. Megan was lost in a maelstrom of sensations, her heart drumming against her ribcage. Their hearts, souls, and bodies were on fire, helplessly assaulted by a wonderfully fierce emotion. The whole world seemed compete and good, even though they knew that it wasn't.

All at once, Megan and Guy heard the rustle of skirts. They parted and swung around to see the female figure nearby. The moonlight fell upon the newcomer’s face, and they recognized Marian. Megan’s mouth dropped open in a shocked “o”, and all the color drained from Guy’s face.

 “Good evening,” Marian greeted. She smiled to herself, amused by the outcome of the evening: she had managed to meet Robin and then had faced Melisende; then she had wandered aimlessly in the gardens, and then, by sheer accident, had found the place of Guy’s rendezvous with Megan.

“Marian,” a perplexed Guy uttered.

Megan’s heart was in her throat. “Lady Marian, we hope that you are having a pleasant evening. We are very sorry if we caused you any sort of inconvenience.”

Guy lowered his eyes and muttered “oh”. “Marian, I hope we didn’t wrong you.”

Marian smiled at Guy, her heart suddenly light at the thought that they would now have the clarity they all needed a lot. Megan didn’t know what to say, looking apologetic as if for her lapse in manners.

Marian’s face broke into a brilliant smile. “You two should not be so embarrassed that I found you here, in the moonlit garden.” She looked between Megan and Guy. “I am abreast of the latest news.”

Guy eyed Marian attentively. Her words sounded like irony, but for some reason, he felt guilty at the thought that he had hurt Marian’s feelings and pride. “Marian, I am so sorry…” His voice halted.

Marian revealed, “Guy, I talked to Queen Eleanor some time ago. She revealed everything to me.”

A surprised Megan glanced at Marian. “You know about our arranged marriage, Lady Marian?”

“I do,” Marian said calmly. “And I don’t object to your marriage.”

Guy studied Marian closely. “You don’t, Marian?”

A smiling Marian nodded. “I think it is the best that could happen to us, Guy.”

A look of bewilderment settled over Guy. “Why are you saying that, Marian?”

Megan surveyed Marian, fearing that she had misheard or misinterpreted her words. But as the meaning of them sank in, she said nothing, for it wasn’t her place to interfere.

A smile perished from Marian’s face. “It is for the better, Guy. I want to be honest with you. I couldn’t make you as happy as you deserve. I tried very hard to forget Robin after our marriage, but I couldn’t.”

Guy felt only slight regret at Marian’s confession instead of a stab of furious jealousy through his heart. He asked curiously, “Did you ever love me, Marian?”

The question caught Marian off guard. She professed, “Guy, we had many happy moments together. “I guess that's a fair enough answer.” She didn’t want to hurt him by admitting that she had been infatuated with him and that that infatuation had occurred at the beginning of their relationship when sexual attraction had been central and Robin had been out of the picture.

“And what do you feel for Robin?” Guy wondered whether she would lie to him now; she didn’t know that Archer and he had overheard her and Robin tonight.

“Robin,” Marian murmured, an elfin smile playing over her lips as if she were keeping a secret. Her yearning for the hero was briefly reflected in his eyes before they turned blank. “I have always loved Robin. I loved him when he went to the Holy Land for the first time and I broke our betrothal, when he returned to Nottingham and was outlawed, and when he proposed to me again in the forest.”

Guy’s low chuckle was quite unpleasant. “And then you married me.”

Marian was quiet for a breath-held moment, her throat thick with bitter shame. “Yes.”

Guy replied gratefully, “Thank you for the truth, Marian.”

A strangled laugh erupted from Marian as she thought of the love triangle she had created. “When I was confused with my feelings, I should have left both Robin and you, Guy.”

“I would have been the right decision,” Megan interposed.

Marian sighed ruefully. “You are correct, Lady Megan. But what is done is done.”

“I am sorry,” Megan blurted out as Guy glared at her.

“No need to apologize. Lady Megan said the truth,” Marian allayed her, smiling somewhat sadly.

An understanding smile on his face, Guy dramatically proclaimed, “It seems that Robin, you, and I are destined to go on separate paths.”

“Yes,” Marian agreed with a smile, feeling a flood of relief so deep that she almost burst into tears. “My feelings for Robin are an organic part of me, and I will never forget him.”

Guy swallowed hard. Every nerve in his body was screaming out for him to tell her how much she had hurt him, but he didn’t. “This is exactly what I thought.”

Marian smiled with an affable smile at Guy. “I wish you happiness, Guy.”

As he looked into the eyes of his former wife, some unidentifiable emotion flickered in his eyes. “Thank you, Marian.”

“Thank you, Lady Marian,” Megan echoed.

Marian smiled vibrantly. Her _seemingly_ final breakup with Guy didn’t shatter her and didn’t irreparably mar her self-confidence: her heart was light like a feather, and, above all, she felt as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes, enabling her to look around and comprehend the significance of life. She spoke in a voice palpitating with sincerity. “You will be happy together, and it will make me happy to see you so.” Then she swiveled and marched off in the direction of the palace.

“Oh,” Megan breathed. “It seems it’s over.”

“It is over,” Guy echoed, scooping her into his arms. She could think of nothing to say in response other than an excited “oh” as she buried her face onto Guy’s chest.

At the thought that his relationship with Marian was over, Guy felt as if a great burden had been removed from his shoulders and as if now he were standing near the gilded entrance to paradise. He was finally moving in the right direction, and the remnants of the past faded into the promise of the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the plot. As I am fond of courtly love and Aquitaine, and I hope that you like these chapters about Queen Eleanor’s court and the way I portray it.
> 
> The Marian/Robin/Melisende love triangle hasn’t been resolved yet; it will happen in the finale, in chapter 16, or maybe nothing will happen at all. As I warned you several times, the finale will be more dramatic for Robin than for Guy, but Robin will find peace in the very end.
> 
> I thought that Marian and Robin needed another moment of frankness, and I hope that you liked the scene in the garden. After Much’s death, they didn’t spend time together and didn’t speak at all despite spending several months at Queen Eleanor’s court. I wanted them to talk a little bit and to show that they still love each other but know that they cannot be together. Now Robin doesn’t love Marian as much as he loved her before her marriage to Guy, and he cannot blatantly lie to her. In this moment of sadness, Robin wants Marian and cannot think straight: he kisses her and she kisses him back, but they both know they shouldn’t have done that, although they enjoyed it. I think Robin wouldn’t have kissed Marian and betrayed Melisende in any way if he wasn’t so distraught; Robin is ashamed and feels guilty.
> 
> It was especially difficult to write all the Guy/Meg scenes in this chapter, and I hope you like them. Megan and Guy needed to talk about their feelings and the situation they found themselves in thanks to Queen Eleanor and King Richard. They are lucky that they love each other and, thus, have a chance to be very happy in this arranged marriage. The Marian/Guy/Megan love triangle seemed to have been resolved. Was it really so? Or will fate intervene and something will happen? Will Guy marry Megan? What will Marian end up alone, finding the purpose of her life in serving the people of Nottingham? You have to be patient and wait, and you will get the reply to your questions in the finale of this epic.
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated, including constructive criticism.


	14. The King’s Return

**Chapter 14**

**The King’s Return**

Robin Hood, Guy of Gisborne, and their friends were in Nottingham at last. They spent the autumn and the first month of winter in Aquitaine, waiting for King Richard’s release from German captivity and his return to England.

Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine’s envoys had attempted to negotiate a lower amount of the king’s ransom, offering 100,000 silver marks, which was equivalent to the total amount of gold found in the chest which Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan had stolen from the Earl of Buckingham’s castle. Yet, Emperor Henry had not only refused to make any concessions but had also threatened to hand Richard to King Philippe of France if the 150,000 silver marks ransom wasn’t paid and if Richard didn’t declare himself the emperor’s vassal.

The emperor’s demands had been outrageous, and King Richard had lodged a categorical protest against them. But as the weeks passed, it became clear that Henry wouldn’t relent, and at last Richard had accepted all the terms and conditions.  In the meantime, one of the most remarkable fund-raising efforts in history had been unfolding in the Angevin Empire. Prince John hadn’t aided his elder brother and still hated Richard, but he couldn’t bribe King Philippe of France and, thus, had possessed no bargaining chip to arrange Richard’s transfer into either Philippe’s custody or his custody. The Black Knights could no longer fund their plots against King Richard.

Queen Eleanor had done her best to accelerate the fundraising in the amount of 50,000 silver marks – the rest of the ransom that was not in the stone chest – to pay the ransom. The common people of England and the Angevin Empire had been taxed heavily. Monasteries had been obliged to turn over a season's wool harvest, and churches had been forced to give up valuables on the back of the imposition of the staggering levies on all subjects. Finally, the huge ransom had been raised, and it had seemed that King Richard would soon return home and oust Prince John.

During the negotiations and the fundraising, Prince John had seized the opportunity and traveled to Paris, where he had established an alliance with Philippe of France. John had acquiesced to set aside his wife, Lady Isabella of Gloucester, and then to marry Philippe's sister, Alys, in exchange for Philippe's support. Then John had gone back to England, preparing for a last-ditch battle with Richard and trying to strengthen his military position. Eleanor and Richard’s loyal councilors had feared that John could be planning a new regicide attempt on the king’s life, but they hadn’t possessed any detailed information, which worried them a lot. Finally, Prince John, Lord Peter Vaisey, Lady Isabella of Gisborne, and all the surviving Black Knights had headed to Nottingham and several other strongholds in the north of England. At present, the whole population of Nottingham was being kept hostage by Vaisey.

Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, Sir Roger de Lacy, the Baron of Pontefract, and a few more loyal knights of King Richard had departed from Aquitaine to the Holy Roman Empire to meet with King Richard and accompany him on the way to England. Robin of Locksley hadn’t traveled with the king’s men at the insistence of Queen Eleanor and Melisende, who had wished him to stay in Poitiers and help coordinate all of their other plans from there. Guy, Archer, Allan, Megan, and Marian also remained at the court in Poitiers. Everyone was waiting for the king’s release with impatience bordering on despair that something could go wrong.

In September, King Richard had been released, and King Philippe of France had sent a message to Prince John: "Look to yourself; the devil is loose". Richard had returned to England and landed at the port of Sandwich. Then he had headed directly to Nottingham with the intent to besiege the town where all the Black Knights had gathered to make a last stand against the rightful King of England.

Having received the news of Richard’s imminent return, Robin, Guy, and the others had traveled to England without going to Sandwich first and traveling straight to Nottingham. They had made a short stop near Northampton where Kate and Rebecca had joined them. Robin was glad that they hadn’t gone to Lady Glasson’s manor, where they would have had to face a distressed Eve who had just have a son, for he feared to look into her eyes that would condemn him for his survival and Much’s death even if she didn’t utter a word; Robin was going to meet with the widow of his best friend after the siege.

Robin, Guy, and the others arrived in Nottingham as the sun was rapidly sinking in a pool of bleak golden light which bathed the bare limbs and snow-covered meadows of Sherwood Forest in a soft glow that lacked warmth. Without hesitation, Robin offered Melisende, Marian, and Megan to spend the night at Locksley Manor in comfort. Melisende and Megan found Robin’s proposal hilarious, and Marian distasted it with every fibre of her being. Guy didn’t like Robin’s idea, but he agreed that it was reasonable because these three ladies were certainly not eager to spend the night with the king’s soldiers in the camp. Allan was glad that Kate and Rebecca would be able to spend the night at the manor; he was also relieved that he would soon be far from his envenomed future mother-in-law who was getting on his nerves all the time.

When the procession was nearing Nottingham, Robin sent a page ahead to Locksley and to the Lionheart’s camp to notify their liege about their arrival. By the time they reached Locksley, the servants and many villagers had walked out of their cottages to greet their beloved lord. They waited for their master and his young wife impatiently; rooms for the guests were prepared, and the dinner was served.

Robin, Guy, and the others were excited and at the same time, nervous, knowing that King Richard and his large army were stationed close to the beleaguered town. It was sleeting heavily, and the mixture of snow and rain created the illusion of a dazzling white silk curtain surrounding them. The stark beauty of the wintry landscape was negated by the slippery, treacherous conditions of the Great North Road and the sharp sting of icy rain on their faces. The weather was hindering their progression towards Nottingham, and a tide of agitation rolled through them.

When they reached the Dead Man’s Crossing, it suddenly stopped sleeting, and everyone sighed with relief. Robin offered Guy to ride ahead to Locksley, and Gisborne nodded his assent. The two men spurred their horses, setting them into a full gallop and leaving the procession and a squad of guards behind; several guards followed them for their protection. The villagers were surprised to see Robin and Guy riding together, finding the situation exceedingly strange as the current Lord of Locksley and the faux Lord of Locksley were entering the village together.

Robin and Guy dismounted, and a young stable boy hurried to Robin, bowing to his master and looking at Guy with unhidden fear in his eyes but then bowing to him as well; the servant took the reins and led two horses away. The astonished villagers stared at Robin and Guy in silence, their expressions conveying their happiness at seeing Robin, although, in the instant, their faces morphed into confusion mingled with contempt at the sight of Guy who stood beside Robin. As Robin nodded at them and the peasants nodded back at their lord, Robin declared that Guy was his guest. The villagers uttered exclamations of surprise and incredulity and disgust, their behavior being indicative of their still disdainful attitude to Gisborne.

As she heard noises outside, Mary, one of the servants, stormed out and stopped on the front steps, looking around. She almost ran to Robin and stopped in her tracks to curtsey to her master, her visage suffused with a scintillating joy. “Master Robin, welcome back! We all have been awaiting your return!”

Robin scooped the woman into his arms, and she laughed merrily. As he drew back, he saw tears in Mary’s eyes, and his heart sang a joyous tone that he was home.  He said softy, “Mary, I am very pleased to meet you! Many guests are going to spend this night at Locksley Manor.” He then laughed in an infectious way that led her to laugh too. “Goodbye apathy and boredom!” he added, grinning flamboyantly.

Mary gave him an almost maternal smile. “Master Robin, there is no boredom when you are here! Everyone is so happy to have you home!”

“I will be happy to meet everyone,” Robin retorted with a smile.

She cast a brief glance at Guy. “Master Robin…” Her voice faltered as she searched her mind for something to say. “Sir… Guy will also be at the manor?”

“Yes, he will,” Robin confirmed. “Guy is a guest at my house.”

Guy smiled at the woman’s abashed face. “Sorry if it is not to your liking.”

A nervous Mary lowered her eyes. “Sir Guy, I didn’t mean…” She broke off.

“I know what you all think of me,” Guy replied rudely, his steely blue eyes glaring at her. “There is no need to explain anything to me.” Then he swiftly walked away.

“Mary, Guy has changed,” Robin pointed out quietly.

Robin and Mary remained outside despite the cold, conversing quietly. The sound of the thundering hooves in the courtyard interrupted their conversation. They watched the long procession of armed men, all of them dressed in red and gold cloaks and wearing uniforms of the same color beneath, lumbered along through the village and stopped near the manor. Archer, Carter, and Allan rode ahead, and in the middle of the procession, there was a large, closed carriage with the Plantagenet coat of arms on the door, where Megan, Melisende, and Marian were traveling. Another closed, simple carriage stopped near the manor; inside, there were Rebecca and her two daughters, Kate, and Maggie.

Robin enlightened, “These are my friends and my brother.”

Mary looked bewildered. “A brother, Master Robin?”

Robin nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Yes. His name is Archer. He is my father’s… illegitimate son, although I know that you have never seen him before.”

“I didn’t know… that Sir Malcolm… had another child…” she stammered.

He sighed. “Archer is also Guy’s half-brother. He watched Archer, Carter, and Allan dismount and stomp towards Guy who stood a small distance from him.

A shocked Mary cried out, “Holy Mother of God! How is that possible?”

Robin explained everything in brief to the woman, whose face was tinged with an alarming paleness. “I will acknowledge Archer as my half-brother officially. Please treat him with all due respect and care.”

“Of course, Master Robin,” she pledged.

“Please, no gossip before I announce that I have a brother. I will need to do all the official paperwork,” he requested, and she nodded at him.

In a few moments, the carriage stopped before the entrance to the manor. Robin and Guy walked over to the carriage to meet the ladies. Archer also strode to the carriage, intending to offer his hand to Marian so as not to leave her alone. Allan headed there as well to greet Kate and her relatives. Megan was already accompanied by Guy everywhere while Melisende had Robin to greet her, and, thus, Marian was left without a male company. As each of these three women stepped out of the carriage in turn, it immediately drove away towards the stables; then Rebecca and her children walked out.

Allan took Kate’s hand and carried little Maggie in his arms; Rebecca trailed behind them. When they entered Locksley Manor, it looked as if there were four couples among them: Robin and Melisende, Archer and Marian, Kate and Allan, and, finally, Guy and Megan. As they walked in the great hall, they were greeted by the bowing servants. Allan accompanied Kate and her family out of the chamber forthwith.

Robin approached Mary, while Melisende ambled next to him. He cast a brief glance at Mary and then veered his gaze to his wife. “Mary, this is my dear wife, Lady Melisende, the Countess of Huntingdon and a cousin of our glorious king.”

“Lady Huntingdon, welcome to Locksley,” Mary began as she sank into a deep but awkward curtsey. As she rose, she smiled and eyed her new mistress, her expression a cameo of sheer admiration as her eyes took in Melisende’s gorgeous face and the elegant clothes of Robin’s wife. She permitted herself to glance askance at Marian, keeping her face impassive with effort; she considered Melisende more beautiful than Marian.

Guy and Megan observed Robin and Melisende. Megan also looked at Marian from the corner of her eye, thinking that the other woman definitely felt ill at ease now.

Melisende smiled with a smile that was peculiarly engaging. “Thank you, Mary,” she said politely. Her eyes flew to Robin. “Robin, will you please take me upstairs? I am very tired after this journey and want to retire to our room.”

“Certainly, my love.” Robin extended his hand to her, and she accepted it, smiling at him with her beguiling violet eyes and her parted lips.

Marian nearly swooned with relief when Melisende and Robin disappeared upstairs. She disliked the idea of spending this night with Megan and Melisende under the same roof, but it seemed that there was no other way. During the long journey in the same carriage from London, Melisende and Megan had been chatting about court life, culture, fashion, and politics, but while Marian had kept silent, contemplating picturesque views of towns, villages, and forests from the window of their carriage. The trip with Robin’s wife and Guy’s future wife was an emotional torture for Marian which was shredding her from the inside out. She had even regretted that she wasn’t traveling with Kate and Rebecca, although being in their company would be too nerve-racking.

“Mary, can you please escort me to my room?” Marian asked with a hint of impatience.

“Lady Marian, I am so glad to see you in Locksley,” Mary spoke sincerely, smiling at the other woman amicably. She secretly still wished to see Marian Robin’s wife, maybe out of habit but also as a means of being among those to whom they could relate – she knew Marian since childhood, and she had no idea who the enigmatic king’s cousin was. “I will lead you to one of the rooms in the left wing of the manor.”

Marian smiled with gratitude. She was relieved that her room was not on the same floor as the master bedroom, where Melisende would be lodged. “Thank you, Mary.”

Mary called another young servant girl, Sarah, who had been Marian’s maid from Knighton Hall. Sarah was still staying in the village despite the fact that Guy was no longer the Lord of Locksley. Marian smiled at Sarah, delighted to see a familiar face. Then Marian exchanged a couple of words with Allan, Carter, and Archer, and climbed the stairs, planning to go to bed as early as possible.

Allan, Carter, and Archer remained in the great hall, waiting for Robin to return so that they could then go to the king’s camp and spend the whole night there.

Guy and Megan came to Mary. Looking between his betrothed and the old woman, Guy made necessary introductions. “This is Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough, who will become my wife after the siege is over. She will spend this night here as well.”

Megan smiled kindly. “Good afternoon, Mary.”

For a span of a few heartbeats, Mary looked befuddled at the mention of Guy’s wedding to Megan. Then she smiled and responded, “Welcome to Locksley, Lady Megan.” A wistful smile painted her lips before her countenance darkened. “I heard about the tragic and undeserved death of your father, Sir Hugh Bennet. Please accept my most sincere condolences on his passing.”

Megan’s eyes were shadowed with emotion. “Thank you very much, Mary. I didn’t know that people talk about my father’s death.”

“Sir Hugh was a well-known man in the shire, although not many of us saw him in the town since his relocation to Nottingham from Aquitaine,” Mary elucidated, trying to approach the subject carefully and also giving Megan some moral support. “Everyone blames Lady Isabella of Gisborne for his murder.”

Megan let out a heavy sigh. “Lady Isabella and Lord Rotherham ordered their guards to kill my father when he tried to save me from the unjust execution.”

Mary’s expression was mournful. “They still talk a lot about that day.” She turned her gaze to Guy, now looking awkward and very uncomfortable. “Sir Guy, I am sorry that we all blamed you for Master Robin’s death, which was unfair to you.”

Guy smiled, surprised to hear that. “I didn’t kill Robin. It was a lie.”

“Sir Guy, the situation in Nottingham will improve for you,” Mary opined. “People still gossip, but I believe that their attitude to you will get better… over time.”

Guy shrugged his shoulders; he was positively surprised with the woman’s sudden sympathy. “I don’t care what all these lazy folks think about me. They should cultivate the land instead of disseminating rumors, lies, and slander.” He lied because, in reality, he craved to finally earn the respect of the populace.

Mary remarked, “Anyway, people were unfair to you, and now they know that.”

“Guy deserves the respect of the people of Nottingham and England after he had helped free King Richard and has been fighting with Robin Hood,” Megan emphasized, her eyes dancing with assurance and joy. “Our king not only pardoned Guy but also asked him to join his troops in the siege of Nottingham.”

Guy’s self-worth increased. “Meg, you exaggerate.”

Looking at him, Megan blurted out, “I only said the truth.”

Mary looked dumbfounded. “Sir Guy, I wish you good luck in the siege.” She sighed. “Everyone in Nottingham is waiting for the end of Vaisey’s tyrannical rule.”

At the thought of Vaisey, a sick, seething swirled in Guy’s chest, making it hard to breathe. “Vaisey committed too many egregious deeds and deserves death,” he spat, a slash of the ire sounding in his voice. “Now King Richard is here, and his troops are stationed near Nottingham. It will be over soon.”

“King Richard will take care of Vaisey and his accomplices,” Megan stated.

“I hope so,” Guy said flatly.  Yet, a dark butterfly of terrible, chilling apprehension flitted across his mind.

According to Mary, the people still talked about the day of Guy’s execution when Robin had rescued him. Robin’s passionate speech about Guy’s innocence and his unfair imprisonment on the charge of Robin Hood’s murder became one of the most sensational and memorable events in Nottingham. Many still remembered how miserable Guy looked on that day, which awakened in their hearts an unfamiliar feeling of pity for the sheriff’s former henchman. Since that fateful day, they were constantly discussing Guy of Gisborne in quite sympathetic tones, condemning Guy’s savage treatment at the hands of his own sister.

“Well, this news is interesting,” Guy uttered thoughtfully after Mary had left them alone in the chamber. They could speak as they were alone now.

“People begin to understand that you changed,” Megan commented with a contented smile. “You should be pleased, Guy.”

He smirked. “I cannot say that I won’t be able to live without the respect of the peasants, but I would love them to stop hating me.” He glanced away, his eyes roving quickly over the massive walls of the great hall and embracing the fine surroundings. Then he glanced back at her. “I lived at Locksley Manor for more than five years as the overlord of Locksley, and, finally, I became Lord of Locksley after Robin’s escape into the forest. Yet, I have never had the respect of the populace.”

“But you know why you failed to achieve it so far.”

“It was only my fault.” Guy’s voice was tense, and hard lines formed near his mouth. “When Robin returned from the Holy Land and threw me out of this estate, he was astounded that I hadn’t earned the respect of the populace after leaving in Locksley for three years and four winters.” He laughed bitterly. “When Robin was away, everyone loved him and patiently waited for his return. When he came back, he still had the same love and respect of the people despite his long absence.”

“And you envied Robin, didn’t you?”

Guy looked as if she had just read a riddle in his eyes. A smile creased his face as he thought of her words. “Yes, I did. I hated that everyone loathed me and glorified the prodigy son who returned from the Crusade, did nothing for them during more than five years, and was still respected and loved by all the people.”

Megan regarded Guy curiously. “And what does it tell you, Guy?”

He thought a moment. “I worked for Vaisey for so long that I managed to forget many important things which my mother had taught me in childhood.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “I ignored for so long that respect is earned, and it is a hard work to earn it. Robin has always had this respect because he has always been a generous and kind lord before and after Acre, and the villagers have revered him.”

“You will gain their respect too.”

Although Guy was skeptical, his doubts immediately turned to excitement and anticipation for the fabulous future. “You really think so, Meg?”

“Guy, you have to believe that it will be alright over time.”

“The king restored the Gisborne lands to my name. I want to build Gisborne Manor, but I am not sure that I will be able to do this.”

Megan’s was bewildered at his statement. “Why?”

“There is no Gisborne anymore,” he articulated in a hollow voice. “Those people who lived in Gisborne relocated to Locksley after the fire, and now there is only a field in the place where my village was located. No peasant would ever leave Locksley for the newly built Gisborne because they all love Robin too much and are loyal to him.”

“Talk to Robin after the siege,” she suggested. “Maybe he will advise something.”

Guy’s eyes exuded hope as he spoke in a slightly trembling voice. “Maybe there will be no bad rumors about me after I help defeat Vaisey.”

She laughed. “A rumor without a leg to stand on is no rumor at all.”

There was a gladsome chuckle from Guy. “Indeed, Meg.”

Guy said to Megan sweet farewell words; then she went upstairs to her room. After her departure, Robin appeared at the top of the staircase and saluted to Guy; then Archer and Carter emerged from an adjacent room. Robin motioned Guy and the others follow him, heading to the stables, where they could take horses and ride to the king’s camp that was positioned close to the forest, between Locksley and Nettlestone.

The sun had almost sunk behind the trees while they rode along the slippery road. The wind had abated, and the snowy trees stood hushed, as if they were waiting for their goodnight blessings; the snow-covered fields and roads, together with Sherwood in the distance, looked almost divine in the fading light of the day. The moving figures of the travelers seemed to grow whiter as darkness blanketed the town. It wasn’t snowing, but it was getting dark so quickly that soon they could see only the outlines of the king’s camp and the orange light from burning campfires.

As they stopped near the entrance to the camp, they noticed that the area was overcrowded with hundreds of soldiers, most of them battle-hardened Crusaders and some knights loyal to those English nobles who remained loyal to King Richard during his absence in England. Within the camp, there were numerous siege engines and machines, ample stores of provisions, and storehouses of weapons.

The camp at the entrance was guarded by ten heavily armed men who instantly recognized Robin. As Robin, Guy, Archer, Carter, and Allan stopped and hopped down from their saddles, the guards bowed to Robin, smiling at their brave captain whom they had last seen in Acre before the battle of Imuiz. They hurried to take the horses of the newcomers by the reins and led them away. A young guard led Robin and his companions to the center of the camp, where the king’s tent was located.

Robin saw Sir Robert de Beaumont who sauntered towards Robin, smiling gaily at his friend. Robin and Robert exchanged a friendly embrace; then Robert warmly greeted Carter, Archer, and Allan. Robert paused in hesitation, looking at Guy with barely masked disdain; Guy smiled cautiously at Robert.

Robin smiled at Robert. “Robert, I am happy to see you again.”

“I am happier than you, my little bird,” Robert returned with a broad grin. “We were waiting for you as impatiently as starving people wait for a piece of bread.”

“I thought you waited for me to fly with me through Sherwood,” Robin teased, grinning sheepishly. “We once wanted to fly from Acre to England. Now we will have to fly through the woods.”

Robert winked at Robin. “I will go with you to the ends of the world.”

“Where is King Richard?” Robin inquired, his heart hammering harder.

“He has been waiting for you impatiently,” Robert notified.

Robin’s face split into a brilliant grin. “Let’s go then!”

Robert swung his gaze to Guy. His distaste was as apparent as his unwillingness to talk to the reformed traitor. “Gisborne, the king wishes to have an audience with you.”

Guy managed a tense smile. “I will be at our liege’s disposal anytime.”

Robert ran his eyes over Robin and his companions. “Are you are going to spend this night in the camp?”

“Well, I think so,” Carter answered.

Robin enlightened Robert about the recent happenings. “Melisende, Marian, and Megan are lodged at Locksley Manor for this night. The manor is guarded by Queen Eleanor’s personal guards, whom we took with us from Aquitaine for our safety.”

Robert nodded. “Good. If you need more men, let me know.”

“We have enough soldiers,” Robin avouched. “I will spend the night at Locksley Manor; the others may stay here.” He heaved a sigh. “I will also have to go to our camp in the woods at dawn to find Djaq, Will, John, and Tuck.”

Guy wondered whether Robin didn’t want to permit him to his house even for one night. “I prefer to stay in the camp as I have a meeting with the king tonight.”

“Very well.” Robert turned to one of the young guards, who bowed to him deeply. “Escort these men to their tents.” His gaze slid to Guy. “Lord Gisborne, be ready for an audience with King Richard.”

“Of course, Lord Leicester,” Guy croaked, repressing his annoyance.

As Guy, Carter, and Archer left, a chilly wind blew from the direction of the forest, and shivering Robin and Robert hastened to get to the king’s tent. Two soldiers who guarded the tent stared incredulously at Robin, astounded to see the king’s savior again; then they gave Robin cordial welcoming smiles, bowing to him deeper than necessary, and in so doing expression their undying respect to and deep admiration for him. Robin flashed a gratified smile and walked to the tent; Robert followed him.

“I will see you later tonight, Robin,” Robert de Beaumont said, grinning.

Robin smiled. “Yes, my friend.” Then he swiveled and strode towards the king’s tent.

§§§

Robin entered the king’s tent and paused at the entrance. Deep emotions churned in his chest, and a myriad of memories whirled in his mind. His heart swelled with joy at the thought that he would meet with King Richard in a few heartbeats. For more than a year, he had lived in a state of painful anxiety, dreading that he would fail to save the king from the Black Knights, but these months of worry were over at last.

Robin looked around, smiling mirthfully to himself. Here, in the royal tent, he felt at home as a sense of peace stole over him, maybe because he had missed King Richard and eagerly wanted to reunite with him. For many months, various scenarios of this meeting with his liege – his friend and his half-brother – had been playing out in his head, and, finally, the moment was at hand. His inexpugnable desire to see Richard was also somewhat akin to his strong attachment to the happy old days and to the old England, which he was desperately clinging to. He then shook away the emotions overpowering him.

There was a small hearth in one of the corners, and a fire was burning there, which warmed the whole tent. The tent was decorated in red and gold colors, from an enormous expensive carpet on the floor to a pile of luxurious cushions embroidered with red and gold thread, which lay on a large, handsomely carved wooden bed in the most distant corner; other delicately carved pieces of furniture scattered around the tent. A long table with several maps of Nottingham and a stack of parchments stood near the bed, and several high-back chairs were placed on the carpet near the table.

Robin took a step forward and turned his head, his eyes searching for Richard. Suddenly, Robin felt a pair of strong arms pulling him to a broad chest. Richard greeted Robin with an affectionate embrace, probably the warmest one they had ever shared. The king pressed Robin to himself tenderly and protectively, apparently trying to avoid hurting him even in the slightest, and Robin’s heart thumped harder in his chest. Robin responded by wrapping his arms around Richard’s back.

Richard and Robin froze for a moment. It was an embrace of two long-lost friends who had just met after a long separation; an embrace of two warriors who survived a bloody war; and an embrace of two brothers who were devoted to one another and had just discovered that one of them was alive.

The king extricated himself from their hug and looked at Robin with a cordial smile on his face. “Robin,” he called in a silken voice. “I find it hard to believe that you are really here.”

Robin flashed an affable smile. “Sire,” he said in a voice thick with deep emotion.

“You are alive,” the king spoke in Norman-French; there was a note of disbelief in his voice. “It is a miracle that you are here. God returned you to England and to us.”

Robin felt tears coming to the corners of his eyes. His swooning relief and gladness were reflected in his eyes for a moment before they turned impenetrable. When he spoke, his voice was steady, but his eyes were sparkling. “I am so happy that you are alive and free, my liege.”

Richard’s eyes traversed his younger half-brother from top to toe. He gave a familiar entrancing and cold smile, feeling a wave of immense relief wash over him at the sight of the breathing Robin. Robin’s pale blue eyes locked with Richard’s deep blue orbs, and the hero smiled back at his liege with a reserved, cautious smile, as if he were alerted to something or were guarding his feelings and thoughts.

The king heaved a sigh as he noticed that Robin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He sighed again at the sight of Robin’s paleness and thinness. Months passed since the tragedy in Imuiz, and Robin had spent about six months at Queen Eleanor’s court in Poitiers, where he had been recuperating, but, nevertheless, it seemed that the hero was still affected by the nearly fatal wound that Vaisey had inflicted on him.

The lion noticed the distinctive sharpness in Robin’s eyes and also hardness that was etched into Robin’s features, which he had never seen before. There were also a few new lines of worry under Robin’s eyes and between his brows, which were barely noticeable, and Richard wondered whether these outward signs of fatigue were attributable to a lack of sleep due to the political morass in England which had been created by the king’s long absence and John’s plots. Overall, Robin still looked younger than his real age.

Robin also examined the king. Richard looked very handsome in a royal purple tunic embroidered with gold thread and in matching trousers. The king was thinner than usual, and he was also rather wan, though  not as pale as he himself was. However, the King of England was still the same strong, charismatic, majestic, and confident man who had led his troops to victory in Sicily, Cyprus, and Acre. Robin also knew a different side to the king: Richard could be overbearing, arrogant, intemperate, and vindictive, and once Robin had seen them applicable to himself when the king had believed in his alleged treason in Acre.

The king’s features weren’t cold: his eyes and smile radiated exultation. “How are you, Robin?”

A mask fell from Robin’s face, and he suddenly looked vulnerable. He swiftly conquered his emotions and schooled his features into blandness. “Now I am much better than… I felt last time when we met.” There was a slight tremble in his voice. “I am not dying now.”

King Richard crossed himself. Then he glanced at Robin, again feeling relief sweep through him. “Thanks be to God you are alive, Robin. You gave us quite a scare in Imuiz. Now let’s take a seat.”

“Thank you, milord.”

Robin bowed to the King of England. As Robin was about to drop to his knee to greet his liege properly, Richard shook his head, signaling that he didn’t want any formalities between them.

“It is I, not you, who should bow to you, my dear Robin,” the monarch affirmed with deep respect.

Robin smiled gratefully, and the king wrapped his arm around his back and pushed his favorite slightly forward, towards the long table. Richard seated himself in a high-back armchair at the head of the table, motioning Robin to take a seat next to him. Robin removed his Saracen recurved bow and his quiver of arrows, putting them at one of the nearby chairs; he kept his scimitar sheathed in his scabbard fastened to his jeweled belt, one of Richard’s gifts to him. Then Robin eased himself into a chair next to the king’s. The Lionheart called his servant, and in a few moments, a young Norman brought two jeweled goblets, a decanter of Bordeaux, and several platters with fruits, eggs, fish, butter, some lamb, and delicate fish.

Robin brought a goblet to his lips. He proclaimed dramatically, “Let’s drink to your safe and glorious return to England, my liege!” He took a hearty swig of wine, savoring it for a moment before swallowing. There was an uplifting lightness and joy in his heart which he always felt in the king’s presence. Now he felt very comfortable and fell into an easy pattern of communicating with Richard.

Richard raised a goblet to his mouth. “To my return to England,” he echoed.

Richard emptied his goblet and placed it on the table. Robin took only a small sip, holding the goblet in his right hand. They sat in silence for some time, as if nobody wanted to speak. Robin was staring into the red liquid that reminded him of blood, causing his body to tremble slightly and his face to lose its color. All the while, Richard was watching Robin with an impassive expression, yet intense eyes, and once or twice Robin discerned a momentary flicker of curiosity mingled with worry in his liege’s eyes.

The lion was impatient to break the silence. “We have to drink again!” he exclaimed. He poured out another goblet for himself. “To your miraculous return to England, Robin!”

A nervous Robin lifted his eyes to his liege. This toast was a harbinger of things to come – the king would soon speak about his health and regicides. He managed a smile, but it was a cover-up for an emotion that was anything but contented. “To my survival,” he murmured, but without enthusiasm.

The king drank the wine and slammed the goblet on the table. He had already understood what was happening to Robin but needed to check his suspicions. He inquired bluntly, “How is your health, Robin?”

Robin winced visibly. “I am very well, sire. Thank you for asking.”

“Why are you lying to me?” Richard parried. Then he smiled slyly, and there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Or is my little bird afraid that the lion will have his bird caged to prevent it from escaping?”

Robin laughed blithesomely. “I am ready to be caged, but only if it means that I will be caged with the lion that will not leave his country and people again.”

“I have just returned, and we have enemies to defeat. Then we will see what to do.”

“Of course, sire.” Robin knew what the king had implied. He didn’t approve of Richard’s intention to probably return to the Holy Land in several years to begin a new Crusade in his second attempt to liberate Jerusalem from the infidels, but he didn’t voice his opinion.

Richard’s expression suddenly grew serious as he scanned his younger brother’s face. “Robin, now I am committed to taking care of you and to ascertain your safety more than ever.” He raised his voice. “I know the truth. When I was in Germany, I received several letters from our mother and Melisende. I know what happened to you in the White Tower when you ruined John’s feast and then John almost killed you.”

Robin shuffled his feet in discomfort. “That was quite a day.”

“Indeed,” the king drawled. “I am fully aware that when you were at court, there were days when you spent all your time in bed because you felt unwell and consulted with our mother’s physician several times.” He paused and eyed Robin with concern, sighing deeply. “I will bet that you have been burning the candle at both ends these past few weeks. You look tired, and you don’t sleep well enough to feel well-rested. Your clever head is full of ideas and half-plans about the arrangement of a bloodless coup in Nottingham tomorrow, and your heart is filled with trepidation and anxiety.”

It was exactly what Robin had anticipated hearing. “Please, don’t worry about me, sire. You have many other important things to worry about.”

The king detected an underlining annoyance about Robin, realizing that his companion was vexed with him due to the mention of Robin’s health. He let out a heavy breath and glanced into Robin’s eyes. “Robin, I love you deeply as a brother and a dear friend. You sacrificed yourself for me in Imuiz, and I owe you the debt I cannot repay,” he spelled out slowly. “Do you really think that I won’t be worried about you after you barely survived a nearly fatal wound that had a huge toll on your health?”

Robin was at a loss for words for a moment. Guilt welled up in him, and he regretted the words he had spoken to his liege. “I do apologize for my lapse of manners, milord. I know that you are worried, and I thank you for your concern.”

“You don’t have to thank me – not you!” Richard exclaimed in most heartfelt tones. “I must thank you for everything you have done for England and for me!”

Robin felt that he ought to give comprehensive answers to all of the king’s questions. “Sire, you are right that I was not in my best shape when I returned to England. Djaq told me that all the wound complications wouldn’t linger for more than a year. And she was correct: now I feel very well, and I think that I don’t even need to be careful in a long, intensive battle. Everything will be alright with me in the siege.”

Richard raised a quizzical brow. “Are you sure that it is so?”

Robin’s smile camouflaged his increasing irritation. “Of course. I cannot lie to my king!”

The king blew out a sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His mind swiftly meandered over the events of the days that had followed the regicide attempt in Imuiz, and he remembered Djaq. “I was informed that Djaq, a young Saracen woman, saved your life, and no Christian doctor could do a better work than she did. I want to personally thank her for this and reward her. What can I do for her?”

Robin fell into thoughtfulness for a short moment. “Djaq will never accept any reward. But there is something you can do for her.” He chuckled. “She is in love with Will Scarlett, a carpenter from Locksley. They are not married yet. Maybe you can administer their wedding ceremony as a symbol of truce between Christians and Muslims.”

The lion nodded. “I will gladly perform the service.”

“I will offer them that.” Robin knew that Will and Djaq couldn’t find a priest who could serve a ceremony with amended wedding vows which are acceptable both in Christianity and Islam, and neither of them would ever convert. The king could solve their problem, and their marriage would still be valid.

A short silence ensued. Deep in thought, Richard rubbed his bearded chin. A beaming smile crept over his face. “Robin, we have to thank God for your salvation. He spared your life because you did many good deeds for England, for your king, for your friends, and for the people of England.”

Robin was in a quandary about whether he should reveal what he had been told about his death and miraculous survival in Jerusalem. His hesitation faded once he thought about it some more. “I have never been as confused about my life as I was during the days that followed my awakening in the holy city. I wondered why I survived and why my life was spared despite the fact that I effectuated all that atrocious slaughter in the Holy Land. I know that we were fighting in the name of God, but we committed crimes there, even though you disagree with me. So many soldiers died from less severe injuries, but I survived, and I am not even crippled.” He sighed. “Djaq, Saladin, and Prince Malik told me that my life was spared for a reason, but I am not sure that they are right.”

The king didn’t objurgate his subject for saying such unsavory things about the Crusade. “Blessings on your precious head, Robin of Locksley! You have a long life ahead!” he cried out, sipping some wine. “You survived because it was God’s will.”

“Maybe I am here because England still needs me,” Robin surmised.

“Not only England but also our mother, your wife, your friends, and I,” Richard added.

Robin nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

The king smiled broadly. “Congratulations on the birth of your son, Robin. It is a pity that I was not able to become the boy’s godfather.”

There was a vivid smile on Robin’s face. “I named my son Richard in your honor, milord.”

Richard chuckled. “Well, I expected that, and I feel honored.”

Robin took a goblet of wine and took a small sip. “Sire, how are you doing?”

Richard smiled ambiguously at his question. “I was treated rather well in captivity. The conditions of my imprisonment were rather bearable,” he commented in a light voice; he didn’t tell Robin that he had spent several weeks in the dungeons before he had been relocated to a comfortable bedchamber. “I would have preferred to go home directly instead of spending so many months in Austria and Germany, but there were some good and memorable moments about my captivity. And after relaxing in captivity a bit, I came back full of vim and vigor, and, of course, I am determined to crush all our enemies like bugs.”

A puzzled Robin pursed his lips. “Positive experiences, sire?”

“I wrote several new love poems and songs,” the king announced proudly. “I will ask Blondel to compose music for these poems. You will have a chance to listen to them.”

“I am sure these songs are fabulous.” Robin had always admired Richard’s musical talents.

Richard drained his refilled goblet, and pontificated, “It was quite a boring time of my life, so I composed songs. I jested that if I was never released, I would have become the oldest musician in those old German castles where I was confined to. I didn’t want to look like an old man singing in boredom.”

Robin laughed at the king’s jest. Then his mind reverted to something that interested him a lot. “Sire, I was shocked to learn that you were put on trial for some alleged crimes committed while on Crusade. You are the very man who fought for the liberation of the Holy Land much more than any other monarch. If you didn’t arrive in Acre to help Guy de Lusignan take the city, Acre would have still been in the possession of the Saracens. If your troops didn’t win the battles of Arsuf and Jaffa, these cities would have still belonged to the Turks. If you didn’t wage war against Saladin, Christians wouldn’t have safe passage to Jerusalem.”

The king tried to contain his anger and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “These bastards dared accuse me of these ridiculous things because it suited their purposes! Leopold of Austria and Henry of Hohenstaufen are not my friends – now they are my worst enemies!”

“But they put you on trial for the murder of Conrad de Montferrat, disregarding the immunity of a king from suit and prosecution. They also forgot about the pope’s prohibition to arrest or harm any Crusader returning from the Holy Land.” Robin touched on the topic which interested him for many months, even though he had a sneaking feeling that he would be embroiled in an argument with Richard.

His intonation reminiscent of a tutor instructing a favorite pupil, King Richard articulated, “Robin, politics is not the art of thinking but rather the art of strategic maneuverings and guileful plots for the sake of your country and its royal dynasties. It is always a gamble, and every new move may cost you the throne, perhaps even your life.”

“But King Philippe of France was your friend and staunch ally.”

The king shook his head. “There are no friends in politics. There are only temporary alliances and old adversaries. Instead of giving your so-called friend a key to the conquered city, it is better to change the locks on the gates, allow your enemy some measure of dignity in defeat, and forever keep a close watch on friend and foe alike.” He slowly drank some wine. “Philippe was my friend only when I was young and didn’t understand the intricacies of royal life. At that time, I had no idea what the true costs of preserving the throne might be. On the Crusade, Philippe was my temporary ally but not my friend.”

Robin looked down, at his empty platter. “And Leopold of Austria?”

The Lionheart laid his mind bare to his beloved subject. “Leopold was also an ally at first, and he assisted us in taking Acre, but he was too arrogant and proud. He wanted more than he deserved, and, because of his unlimited ambitions, I slighted him in public.” He paused, looking into the flames. “I admit that I was rather intemperate on the day of that incident.” He sighed. “Maybe I could act differently back then.”

Robin was surprised to hear that from the king. Richard had never before acknowledged his missteps and miscalculations even to him. He wondered whether it meant the deepening of their relationship and trust. “It seems that Leopold hasn’t forgotten about that.”

“No ruler forgets humiliation and disgrace; Leopold used my own mistakes against me.” Richard sighed tiredly. “I know why you asked me about Conrad de Montferrat,” he continued neutrally.

A slightly distressed Robin breathed, “Oh.”

“For the love of heaven! You must understand me, Robin!” the king rumbled, his voice both exceptionally deep and tremendously ominous. “I needed Conrad gone. He had the support of Philippe of France and Leopold of Austria, but they were never my real allies and could backstab me. You know what happens when the treacherous enemy comes down upon a slumbering village – everyone is slaughtered in their sleep. These people cloaked their wicked objectives by appearing to be friendly to me.” He lapsed into silence, collecting his thoughts. In a voice tinged with intransigence, he said, “As for Conrad, he was itching to grab the reins of power whenever he had a chance. Through his marriage to Lady Isabella of Jerusalem, he became King of Jerusalem, but he craved much more for himself and for Philippe as well.”

Robin felt blood freeze in his veins. He knew that Richard had hired the Hashashin to murder Conrad de Montferrat; Robert de Beaumont had confirmed that. But it was a different thing to receive the confirmation from Richard himself. The new image of the great King Richard was forming in Robin’s head: Robin no longer idealized Richard and considered him God’s incarnate. He didn’t approve of the barbaric slaughter in the Holy Land, and he wasn’t fond to learn that his liege had ordered the murder of another king. Yet, Robin wasn’t going to verbally deprecate Richard, and he wasn’t even horrified as he understood that constant plotting, brutal violence, and vile backstabbing were a pivotal part of politics. Maybe he made  such conclusions due to his disillusionment, or perhaps he just matured a lot.

The young hero expelled a long sigh. “I understand.”

Richard ruminated, “It was my small victory in the Holy Land when Guy de Lusignan became King of Jerusalem instead of Conrad de Montferrat. But it came at a high price for me: Leopold began to hate me, and, when he had a chance, he captured me to avenge his disgraces.”

Robin deftly turned the topic of conversation. “Sire, how did they capture you? How did they learn that you were passing through Vienna?”

“My page was bought by the Black Knights. He contacted Leopold’s captain of the guard.”

“The Black Knights,” Robin spat.

“Traitors are everywhere, Robin. They can still be even among most loyal of my men.”

“We must be still cautious, milord.”

“Exactly.”

“I will think how to uncover the traitors who might still be among your knights, sire.”

“Don’t waste too much time on that. Soon it will be over.”

“I hope so.”

Richard leaned back against his seat, his visage brightening. “When I stood trial before the German Diet at Worms, there was one interesting man there – Count Friedrich of Bavaria. After I finished my long defensive speech that impressed everyone in the assembly hall, Count Friedrich harangued them all on the subject of their misjudgment of my achievements in Acre. And the count’s silver tongue got around them and helped convince all German nobles to take my side.”

Robin let out a laugh. “Count Friedrich is an original man. I met him in England.”

“I know, Robin. We talked after my trial, and we spoke about you.”

“And what did he say?”

The king smiled fondly at the younger man. “Count Friedrich told me about his thrilling adventure with the illustrious Robin Hood in the bucolic English countryside.” He howled with laughter. “I was very impressed that you managed to get into the strong room in the castle, deactivate several deadly traps, and then make a daring escape to Sherwood.” His smile widened. “The count complained about having only one adventure with you and your gang. He even considered spending some time with the great merry men in the woods, robbing nobles and helping the downtrodden.”

Robin grinned. “Count Friedrich enjoys the thrill of adventure. He craves a challenge.”

“Like you, Robin.”

“Like me,” Robin echoed, smiling smugly.

Richard didn’t tell Robin that Count Friedrich had chatted enthusiastically about Marian, admiring the lady’s honor, bravery, quick-wittedness, headstrongness, and beauty. Friedrich had also spoken a lot about Marian’s romance with Robin Hood in the green arms of Sherwood. The lion didn’t deem it a good idea to remind Robin of his former betrothed, for he was cognizant of Robin’s unwavering affection for Marian.

The sandy-haired man smiled. “Thanks be to God that you are free, my lord!”

The king’s mind drifted back to what Eleanor had written him in one of her letters. “I confess that I was amazed to learn that Sir Guy of Gisborne helped you steal the chest of gold from Lord Buckingham.” He sighed. “I will talk to him tonight. I will thank him for his participation in the fundraising of my ransom.”

“And congratulate him on his wedding,” Robin suddenly said.

Richard forewarned, “Robin, no angry speeches condemning my actions!”

“I prefer not to interfere, sire.”

Richard smiled feebly, relieved. “Glad to hear that.”

His countenance as if carved out of marble, but his eyes shining with curiosity, Robin questioned, “Milord, you pardoned Guy, but you still don’t trust him.”

“Indeed, I don’t trust Gisborne.”

Robin was refilling his goblet as he continued. “Our mother showed me the list of the people whom Vaisey and Guy murdered. The list is very long, and it includes a great many of rich and powerful nobles.”

Richard gave him a smile of rare warmth, for he was delighted that Robin referred to Queen Eleanor as ‘our mother’. “Gisborne’s crimes are worse than I expected. Vaisey targeted only my loyal knights at my father’s order and later at John’s behest.”

“Sire, we all make mistakes. Gisborne perpetuated many evil deeds, but he has changed.”

“Robin, I cannot trust Gisborne. I must be sure that Gisborne will always be loyal to England and to me. I will watch him, keeping him close to me and our mother.”

“Sire, I know why you don’t trust Gisborne completely, even though he switched sides, spent months in prison, and then helped me and my men collect your ransom.”

The Lionheart snorted. “Very good.”

Robin attempted to substantiate the fact of Guy’s reliability. “Guy was very loyal to Vaisey throughout many years, but his loyalty was misplaced and misguided. And his loyalty to you will be unwavering, sire.”

“Not everything is as easy as it seems, Robin.”

“What do you mean?”

“Robin, you are a kind-hearted, noble, and loyal man who always does the right thing.” The lion trailed off, thinking about Guy. “But Gisborne is a different man: he is not you, and he will never be like you. Nevertheless, I am glad that I didn’t order his execution in Acre.”

“Sire?” Robin arched a brow.

Richard voiced his assessment of Guy. “Gisborne is not as bad as I initially thought of him, but he remains dangerous for me. But the story of his crimes against England and me is too long and too old. A greedy and ambitious man who once betrayed his king might always be tempted by a lucrative proposal, and, therefore, he might switch sides, betraying his sovereign again.”

“Betrayal is an ordinary thing for villains, but Guy does have a conscience,” Robin asserted as he emptied his goblet and set it on the table. “But I know that there are no innocent betrayals.”

The king regarded Robin with admiration. “Robin, there are very few people who can be as loyal and honorable as you are. Loyalty and honor are in your blood.” Then his expression twisted into harshness. “But this is not Gisborne’s case. We have to distrust men like him. It is our only defense against betrayal.”

“I cannot disagree with you, my liege. It would be a mistake to not take precautionary measures against potential treason.”

“A stupid mistake,” the lion emphasized.

Robin jested, “But some people never make stupid mistakes; only clever ones.”

“This is your case, Robin.”

Robin grinned audaciously. “I have a lot of experience under my belt which allows me to be spared from my king’s wrath! If I commit a clever mistake, I don’t risk displeasing my liege.”

Richard broke into a crescendo of merry laughter. He missed Robin’s wit and was also pleased that he glimpsed the old Robin once again. “As dryly humorous as always.”

“Certainly!” Robin’s lips stretched into a grin.

The lion’s lips were quivering in a tiny smile. “Robin, you can be so very innocent at times, and I love this quality in you.” His eyes twinkled. “And the greatest lesson in life is to know that even fools are correct, sometimes, especially if they are mischief-makers.”

Robin sniggered. “Start and end every day with a smile.”

The king was quiet for a few moments. “I suggest that we invite Sir Guy of Gisborne for an audience.”

“Do you want me to stay, sire?” Robin inquired.

“Only if you are not tired, Robin.”

Robin shook his head. “I feel well enough to stay here for another hour.”

King Richard nodded wordlessly and summoned one of the soldiers who guarded his tent. The lion instructed the man to find Guy and escort him to the royal tent for a private audience.

§§§

It was already dark when a soldier came to Guy and Archer’s tent and said that King Richard was waiting for Guy. Archer eyed Guy with alarm, but Guy clapped his young half-brother on the shoulder, giving the young man a reassuring smile that he would be alright. Then Guy quitted the tent, following the guard; his heartbeat was heavy, like the repetitive thud of a judge's gavel before condemning a prisoner to death.

As they walked through the large camp, Guy noticed that the soldiers were preparing siege machines and testing their weapons despite the late hour. He could see traces of agitation on the faces of the king’s men in the wake of the upcoming assault on Nottingham. He passed by Robert de Beaumont and Roger de Lacy, who acknowledged him with a slight nod and then continued to converse with their comrades.

The guard left Guy near the king’s tent, and Guy felt his heart pounding harder; he paused for a moment, as if he were hesitating. He dragged a deep breath, trying to maintain a cool façade, but he still felt nervous. He could easily guess what the conversation would be about, and he had already realized that he had to obey any Richard’s order to keep his head attached to his shoulders. With grim thoughts swirling in his head, Guy pushed the flap of the tent and entered.

“Sir Guy of Gisborne,” King Richard’s steady baritone spoke in Norman-French.

“My liege, welcome back to England,” Guy began in an official manner. He bowed and then dropped to one knee. He inhaled and exhaled sharply, steeling himself against his fears.

“Rise and take a seat there,” Richard said formally, dismissing Guy from his bow; he pointed at a chair next to Robin’s.

“Thank you, milord.” Guy rose to his feet and looked at Richard. He examined the surroundings and noticed that Robin was there, feeling relieved that he wasn’t facing Richard alone.

The king opted for a straightforward approach. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Guy swallowed heavily. “As you wish, sire.” Then he seated himself in his chair.

“Sir Guy, my mother wrote me that she had an interesting conversation with you,” said the Lionheart continued dryly. Then he averted his gaze, staring into the flames of a burning candle on the table. “You have to prove your loyalty to England and to your king after all the criminal things you did in the past.”

Guy forced a tentative smile. “Milord, I pledged my loyalty to you. I am your vassal.”

Richard turned his gaze back to Guy and gave a nod. “I am aware that you, Sir Guy, helped collect a large part of the ransom paid to the emperor for my release,” he said in a lighter tone. “You killed the Baron of Rotherham in Nottingham when Lady Isabella of Gisborne wanted to execute you. You destroyed the Earl of Buckingham who was one of the main conspirators against the rightful King of England, and you saved Lady Megan’s life from this fiend.” His mighty voice rose a bit. “You cooperated with Robin and fought against my brother, John, and the Black Knights. I do appreciate your contribution.”

“My liege, I did my duty to you, my king and sovereign,” Guy responded tensely.

The king suppressed a smile at Guy’s statement. “Sir Guy, when we were in Acre, I told you that one day I would remind you of your duty to England. At that time, I didn’t demand that you provide me with evidence of your loyalty, thinking that I would speak to you about it after my return to England.”

“I remembered that, my liege,” Guy’s calm voice spoke.

The king nodded. “Good.” His voice rose an octave. “At that time, we thought that Robin was dead, and I spared your life only because Robin asked me to not execute you.” He looked at Robin, sighing deeply; then he veered his gaze to Guy. “I couldn’t reject Robin’s request on what we thought was his deathbed.”

Robin interposed, “It was fair to pardon Guy.”

Guy let out a small smile, grateful to Robin for his kindness.

Looking at Robin, Richard grumbled, “Robin, we agree to disagree.” His face turned into reprehension as his gaze slid to Guy. “No monarch can look indifferently at a man who attempted regicide twice.”

An ashamed Guy lowered his eyes. “I regret that I tried to kill you twice, milord.”

Richard regarded Guy critically. “Gisborne, your loyalty was misguided, but that cannot justify your treachery. After the special investigation into your case, I was shocked to learn how many people suffered because of your and Lord Vaisey’s deeds. You and Vaisey killed more than twenty-five of my loyal knights.” He raised his voice to a harsh, piercing tone. “I cannot thank you for that.”

Guy muttered, “I understand, and I am sorry.”

“But your apology cannot resurrect my loyal men,” the king growled, a stern expression on his face. “In Acre, I didn’t know that your and Vaisey’s crimes are so grave.”

“Milord, I told you only a general story when I confessed. You didn’t ask me about the number of the people whom I… murdered while working for Vaisey,” Guy defended himself.

A feral grin formed on the king’s face. “Sir Guy, I was interested whom I pardoned. Therefore, I wrote a letter to Sir William de Longchamp, asking him to launch an investigation.”

Robin didn’t dare interject, knowing that Richard would get angry. He was also convinced that the king would do right by Guy if Gisborne proved his loyalty and acted reasonably.

Guy’s cheeks glowed with shame, partly at the villainy of his former conduct, partly at being the object of so much castigation on the part of King Richard. “I am not proud of myself. But you gave me a second chance to live a new life, and I am grateful for that.” He emitted a heavy sigh. “I cannot rectify all the wrongs I caused, but I can do something good for England and for my king.”

“That is a wise reply,” Robin opined, smiling ever so slightly.

Guy was amazed that, for the first time in his life, he did really wish to do something good for England, even not for King Richard to repay his debt for the pardon, but for his country as well. It was a relatively new sensation for Guy, which was developing gradually since the day of him joining Robin Hood. His collaboration with Robin annihilated his bitter feeling of self-loathing. He would never be as devoted and loyal to England and to any king, including Richard, as Robin, but he intended to be loyal.

The Lionheart didn’t express his appreciation visibly, but his respect for Guy was reflected in his eyes. “To be honest, I didn’t anticipate that you, Gisborne, would ally yourself with Robin after Robin’s return. But you helped Robin fight against the Black Knights after my capture, and I will never forget this.”

Guy let out a cautious smile. “I don’t deserve your praise, milord.”

The king smiled enigmatically. “Your actions merited this praise from your king, Sir Guy. I never forget and offend those who serve me well.” His smile became like a wry smile of a conspirator. “And yet, there is something that ties you to the future of England, the Plantagenet dynasty, my mother, me, and Robin.”

Guy’s inner anxiety heightened. “Sire, I assume that my loyalty is not attested by my promise which I gave you in Acre. I must prove my allegiance to you by marrying Meg and serving in your army.”

“Yes,” Richard confirmed. “Given your known penchant for power and wealth, I will keep you by my side to make sure that you will never betray us again. You comprehend that I cannot fully trust you.”

King Richard, his face impenetrable, directed a long ambiguous look at Guy. There was a strange, satrapic gleam in the lion’s eyes that made the hair on the back of Guy’s neck stand on end. Richard only had to look at one of his subjects with those steady, vigilant, and intelligent blue eyes, and the targets of that gaze flinched and sighed and shuddered. The Lionheart’s eyes missed no subtle changes in reactions, could unravel any conundrums, and could denude his subjects of hope for a pardon or for a better future. Richard was the most powerful and most regal man in the Angevin Empire, perhaps in all of Christendom, and his kingly aura was tinctured with imperiousness. Richard knew how to bend others to his will, how to make his subjects loyal to him and to ensure their allegiance, and how to punish those who betrayed him or infringed on his own interests or the interests of those whom he loved and cared about.

The king grasped that Guy could be utterly loyal to his liege lord, like he had been to Vaisey throughout many years, and he admired that quality in Guy. For Richard, there would never be anyone better than his beloved Robin and the Earl of Leicester, but Guy was a useful man. He viewed Guy as a ruthless, sharp sword, honed to serve his liege lord and at the same time, Guy’s own personal aspirations. Richard could find and form a connection with Gisborne, if he showed Guy practical benefits of serving him. This odd fresh awareness made the Lionheart respect Guy more, but this cold respect was mingled with contempt.

“I understand,” Guy replied evenly. He believed that he had done enough to prove his loyalty, but he admitted that the king had many reasons to be worried about the safety of the secret they all were keeping. If he were in the king’s shoes, he would have murdered all those who knew the truth of Robin’s birth.

Richard’s expression changed into coldness. “I want to believe you, Sir Guy. But I have to make sure that nothing bad will happen.” His eyes flew to Robin. “We are talking not only about the well-being and safety of Robin but also about the future of our empire and England.”

Guy felt discomfited, although the king didn’t threaten him. “Yes, sire.”

The lion looked at Robin who nodded at their liege in comprehension; then he shifted his gaze back to Guy. “Gisborne, your marriage to Lady Megan serves my and your interests.” He smiled. “Moreover, I need this union to guarantee the loyalty of certain Norman vassals to me.”

“What do you mean?” A bewildered Guy raised his eyebrows.

The Lionheart’s mood morphed into sorrow. His grief over Hugh’s demise was a painful dirge whose lamentations filled his heart. “Lady Megan’s father, Sir Hugh Bennet of Attenborough, owned several estates in Normandy,” he elaborated. “Sir Guy, John’s decree that outlawed you is unwarranted, and I am ignoring it. In addition to the Gisborne lands which you now own officially, you will receive the property rights for several rich fiefdoms in Normandy which are located near towns of Flers, Lisieux, and Argentan; this will happen after your marriage to Lady Megan. You will also have in your possession three fiefdoms in Poitou, which I rewarded Sir Hugh with for his loyal service to me.”

Guy was taken aback. “I didn’t know that Meg’s father had lands in Normandy and Aquitaine.”

Richard let out a mournful sigh. “Hugh was very loyal to my mother and to me, and we both were very fond of him. I am very sad that he was killed by Lady Isabella of Gisborne’s guards.”

“We were with him when he passed away,” Robin entered the conversation.

The king sighed dejectedly. “You will fill me in on all the latest news later, Robin.”

Robin nodded. “Of course, milord.”

A heavy mocking gleam in his eyes, King Richard burst out laughing. “Sir Guy, I am granting you power and wealth. I am giving you a well-bred, beautiful wife who is my mother’s confidante,” he said, looking at Guy. “You served Vaisey for so long, but you gained so little, except for pain and troubles.”

Guy stiffened. “My loyalty to Vaisey was the biggest mistake in my whole life.”

Guy didn’t like that the king was clearly taking advantage of his precarious situation to solve his own problems, but at least Richard didn’t constantly humiliate him, like Vaisey had done. Actually, the lion was really generous, much more generous than he had expected. A practical man by nature, Guy could also understand why Richard was kind of buying his allegiance and tying him to the Plantagenet family: Guy possessed the knowledge of the bloody secret that could ruin England and many lives, lest it was unveiled.

Richard offered Guy a fair deal, and he respected his liege’s practical approach: Guy would be serving the king loyally and would keep silent, while Richard had already pardoned him and would give him lands and would probably even extend him his trust and royal favor. Richard not only restored the Gisborne lands to Guy but also provided him with other legal means of amassing wealth – through his future marriage to Megan. Most importantly, now Guy was on the right side. He had changed, but there was still part of him that wanted to attain a high social status and to obtain power and riches, provided that it was done within the English law; he was not like Robin Hood – there was a selfish streak in him.

“It is good that you understand that, Guy,” Robin noted. He was sitting quietly, but he was closely listening to the conversation between the monarch and Guy.

Guy cast a brief glance at Robin. “Good for me in the first place.” Then he swung his gaze to the king. “Sire, Queen Eleanor mentioned that you want to take me in Normandy.”

Richard nodded. “Yes, Gisborne. I was told that you acquitted yourself well in battle. Now I need to recruit many skilled soldiers for the war with Philippe of France.” He released a sigh of frustration. “Currently, the allegiances of many Norman lords may change in favor of France. Philippe is trying to earn their support by promising them to lower taxes and to grant them rich fiefdoms, if they pledge their fealty to the crown of France.” He pointed at Guy. “You will wed Lady Megan, and I will have another loyal lord in Normandy to control some of my powerful vassals in the Norman lands.”

“I see.” Guy smirked. Robin’s arranged marriage to Melisende was necessary to guarantee the loyalty of many powerful Poitevin lords to Richard. His own marriage served the same purpose, as well as many other important purposes. Fortunately, his matrimony would be based on the mutual love he shared with Megan.

After a short, nerve-tingling pause, the king spoke. “Tell me, Sir Guy, what are you going to do?”

A luminous smile spread across Guy’s features. “I will gladly marry Meg, sire.”

A startled silence followed as an astonished Richard studied Guy closely. “Very well then,” he said in a relieved voice. “I hope this situation didn’t cause… any troubles to Lady Marian.”

Robin turned his curious gaze to Guy, but he said nothing.

Guy felt a little uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help but continue smiling. “I think that Meg and I will be happy in our marriage. We understand each other and get along very well.”

The king tossed his head; a long strand of red-gold hair fell over his forehead, and he smoothed it back. “I am delighted, Gisborne,” he commented in a friendly manner, his eyes searching for something in Guy’s eyes. “Is there something… else behind your gladness to wed Lady Megan?”

Guy permitted a shy smile to play across his lips. “I love Meg, and she loves me.”

King Richard tilted his head to one side, smiling crookedly. “Very good,” he said shortly. He wasn’t going to talk about Guy’s relationship with Marian.

A curious Robin raised an eyebrow. “When did it happen, Guy?”

“It is my private life, Robin,” Guy answered dismissively.

Robin grinned. “Interesting.”

Richard waved his hand for silence. “We have to discuss the siege.”

Robin’s expression turned serious. “Sire, when are you planning to take Nottingham?”

“At first, I am going to negotiate with John,” Richard replied, his gaze flickering between Robin and Guy. “The town is surrounded, and it will be taken sooner or later. I will offer my brother to surrender Nottingham.” He sighed. “It would spare us many troubles.”

“Prince John may agree because he is cornered,” Guy voiced his opinion.

Robin’s features hardened to a smooth stone mask. “As soon as Vaisey realizes that we launched the assault, he will be desperate and will attempt to take down as many king’s men as possible,” he speculated. There was arctic chilliness in his voice which hadn’t been there moments ago. “We underestimated Vaisey’s perfidy, and we all remember the events in Imuiz. This time, we cannot make the same mistake.”

Guy nodded and Richard sighed as they reminisced about Vaisey and Isabella’s grand charade in Imuiz which had led to the demise of Richard, Robin, and Guy. Robin grabbed a half-empty decanter of wine which remained on the table after the dinner, and he poured out two goblets for the king and himself; then Robin offered a goblet to Guy who accepted it with a smile.

The king drained the contents of his goblet in one gulp. “This devious Vaisey is much more cunning and nefarious than we thought.” He placed it on the table. “What is your half-a-plan, Robin?”

“There is something else, my lord.” Robin paused, thinking.

“Go on,” Richard prompted; he heard the alarm in the voice of his beloved knight.

Robin’s mind was churning with plans for the siege. “We must make sure that Prince John, Vaisey, and other Black Knights will not escape from Nottingham through the underground tunnels. Maybe there are other escape routes, and we cannot allow them to vanish into thin air. If they run away, war will never end.”

Guy nodded in agreement. “The underground system is very complicated, and not everyone knows all twists and turns there. Vaisey built the tunnels to hide there his treasures from Robin Hood and his gang, as well as to provide himself with a way for escape. They call these tunnels the underground hell.”

Robin grinned. “We had great fun when we robbed the sheriff and mocked him.”

Richard smiled. “Robin, you terrorized Vaisey and Gisborne more than they victimized the peasantry. I know what Robin can do: his insane and eccentric half-plans are outrageous but quick and highly effective.”

Guy wasn’t very fond of where the conversation was going. “Well, Robin thwarted many of Vaisey’s plans, but he was caught many times.”

“But he always escaped,” the king continued, looking at Guy in anticipation of getting the confirmation.

“Almost always,” Guy said. “At times, Marian helped him.”

At the mention of Marian, Robin’s nerves were highly strung. “Yes, Marian saved my life a few times. Without her, many of our plans wouldn’t have been successful.”

Guy suddenly was repulsed with himself as he thought of his work against Marian and Robin. “Marian is a good fighter, which is why she was the Nightwatchman for so long and wasn’t captured.” He heaved a sigh. “She is also a great actress, and she can play any game to weasel information out of someone.”

“Marian is a provident woman.” Robin’s mind was beleaguered with unresolved issues that remained in his relationship with Marian.

The Lionheart felt the tension rising like smoke from wet wood. “The underground hell,” he jumped to another topic. “What an amusing name for Vaisey’s prison!”

“Vaisey’s typical sadistic humor.” Robin’s voice was edged with absolute disdain.

Guy contemplated the existing options. “I can lead a squad of soldiers through the underground tunnels, and we will exit either to the strong room or to the study. But I am afraid Vaisey rigged traps in the tunnels.”

Robin brooded aloud, “It is very likely. We cannot snoop for information tonight. Even if we find an informant, we should take their intelligence with a pinch of salt as we cannot be sure that they tell us the truth.”

“I know how several traps work, but not all of them,” Guy supplied. “We can conjecture that Vaisey plans to snare us into a trap. He has already begun to prepare for the final battle!”

Richard concluded, “We will not attempt to sneak into the castle through the tunnels.”

Robin furrowed his brows. “Maybe we should–”

The lion interrupted Robin. “My answer is a no, Robin.”

A disappointed Robin asked, “What about the population? If we start an assault, many innocents may die. Vaisey will use peasants as a living shield.”

Richard leaned back in his chair, his stare fixed on Robin. “We should hope that John surrenders; then there will be no bloodshed. If my brother doesn’t consent to end the war, then we will begin the assault that will be short but brutal. Our men will never harm civilians on purpose.”

Robin wasn’t satisfied with the king’s offer to protect the townspeople. “My friends from Sherwood can assist us. They know all escape routes and secret passages in Nottingham better than anyone else.” He took a goblet and sipped some wine. “We will try to open the eastern gates, and the people will leave the town.”

Guy dipped his head in acknowledgment of Robin’s suggestion. “It is a good idea.” He didn’t wish innocents to die either.

There was a moment’s silence as the king mulled over Robin’s offer; then he gave an affirmative nod. “You have won, Robin. I will let some of your friends and not more than twenty of my knights to take the gates and begin the evacuation of the people, but I cannot send more soldiers on this mission.”

Robin smiled jauntily. “Thank you.”

The king was quiet for a while, his mind inventing the right strategy for the siege. “We will dispatch envoys to John at dawn. If he refuses to give us the keys from Nottingham, then we will immediately launch the assault.” He looked at Robin. “Robin, you are going to stay with me.”

Robin’s brows knitted in confusion. “Why, my liege ?”

“It is reasonable, Robin,” Richard commented, his gaze drifting to Guy. “Gisborne, you will lead a squad of twenty men and go to the eastern gates, where you will arrange and oversee the evacuation of the people from the town. Allan and Archer, Robin’s friend and brother, will accompany you.”

A pleased Guy bowed. “As you command, milord.” He thought that if he helped save the people, they would probably stop hating him; he was zealous to earn the respect of the local populace.

“Sire, I can do that,” Robin volunteered.

“No, Robin,” the Lionheart asserted, his face growing immensely serious. “You may entreat me to send you ahead with several squadrons until hell freezes over, but I won’t relent,” he said in a voice that didn’t brook arguments and debates. “Roger de Lacy will lead the assault. When we enter Nottingham and the battle with Vaisey’s men unfolds, you will stay close to me, surrounded by my most loyal and competent men for our protection. Don’t you dare do anything foolhardy or impulsive! This time, you must obey me.”

Distress marred Robin’s gaze before he composed himself enough to hide it. He made an attempt at persuasion. “Sire, maybe I will–”

“Robin, don’t importune me with your complaints!” the king clamored, shooting Robin a pointed look. “I am not going to watch you steam and fret over it until you are ready to burst. You are a man of action and a great leader, but this time, you will do as I order.” His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned. “Is that clear?”

A dispirited Robin inclined his head. “Yes, milord.”

Richard wanted to placate his beloved brother’s frustration. “We will desperately need your leadership skills and your military genius after entering Nottingham, when we have to face an army of traitors. We will precipitate Vaisey and his dogs together, but you will be watched, Robin.”

“Alright, milord,” Robin acquiesced.

The king flitted his gaze to Guy. “Sir Guy, you may leave. Find Roger de Lacy and Robert de Beaumont and send them to us. Tell them that we have to discuss our plans for tomorrow.”

Guy rose to his feet and bowed to his liege. “With your permission, sire.” As he exited the tent, there was a palatable lightness in his heart, for he liked the audience with the king.

Tomorrow they would conquer Nottingham, and Vaisey would be toppled at last, Guy thought. Yet, a ball of anxiety was bouncing up and down his spine. The night cold chilled him to the bone, and he picked up his pace, heading to the tent of the king’s favorites to fulfill the king’s request. As a gust of the wind suddenly arose, Guy was inexplicably seized by some macabre presentiment, and in the wail of the wind, he could hear a mourning lament, feeling as if they all were close to the edge of a yawning chasm.

§§§

Guy stood on the outskirts of the king’s camp, looking thoughtfully at the walls of Nottingham in the distance, above which the sun was rising. Leaden clouds were skidding across the canvas, and here and there patches of blue showed through. It had been snowing heavily at dawn but then had stopped abruptly, and now the snow lay in long drifts that were deep enough to hide the main road to Nottingham in some spots. Guy turned his head, his eyes briefly focusing on a small group of guards who were sharpening swords and polishing helmets. Most of the king’s soldiers were up in arms, itching for a fight.

Guy swept his eyes over the walls of the town glittering in the rays of the rising sun; then he swung his gaze to his betrothed. “The assault will begin soon,” he told Megan who stood beside him.

Her voice laced with pride and admiration, Megan asked, “Will you help evacuate the people, Guy?”

He nodded. “Yes. I will go to the gates very soon.”

“The envoys have just returned from Nottingham!” They heard Roger de Lacy’s announcement. They watched de Lacy approach two king’s young men who had just dismounted near the entrance to the camp and bowed to their commander. Then de Lacy and two envoys hustled to the king’s tent.

Megan raised a quizzical brow. “What now?”

“We are waiting,” Guy replied quietly.

Megan and Guy stood in a pressing silence for a long time, observing the agitated faces of the soldiers who waited for news about the negotiations with the king’s treacherous brother. All the knights glittered from head to toe with shining steel; nobles, who were loyal to King Richard and had arrived in Nottingham a few days ago, wore cloaks embroidered with the Lionheart’s coats of arms featuring three golden lions.

Trumpeters executed a lively fanfare on their instruments, and a moment later, King Richard walked out of his tent. The monarch came forth, clad in shining armor emblazoned with the coat of arms of three lions on the chest. He was leading Lady Melisende Plantagenet, who was very elegantly appareled in a gorgeous purple and gold warm cloak, embroidered with jewelry and gold braid; there was a jeweled belt around her waist, and a small knife in the scabbard was fastened to her belt. Robin of Locksley, Roger de Lacy, Robert de Beaumont, Roger de Tosny, and Carter Leighton of Stretton, each of them clad in the armor, were trailing behind the king, with Robin at the helm of their small but proud procession.

“Lady Melisende is so beautiful,” Megan whispered, her eyes glued to Robin’s wife.

“Yes, she is,” Guy agreed, his eyes taking in the regally cold face of Robin’s wife. “I wonder what Lady Melisende is going here. Marian wasn’t allowed to come to the camp.”

Megan chuckled. “She is Richard’s beloved cousin, and she is called a lionet. I think that she arrived here to our king and Robin, like I came to you.”

Guy frowned at the strained expressions of King Richard, Melisende, and Robin. “What is happening?”

Megan also noticed the utter graveness on their faces. “I have to agree with you.”

Richard and Melisende climbed to the high platform in the middle of the camp; Robin and the others followed them. All the knights crowded before the platform. They all bowed their heads courteously to the king, who quickly waved his hand, impatiently dismissing everyone from formalities.

“Long live King Richard! Long live the king!” the knights and soldiers shouted.

King Richard flashed a wide smile as his eyes roamed over the assembly of his loyal knights whom he liked and respected and who were ready to give their lives for him and his cause. He waved his hand for silence and sighed heavily before speaking. “My kinsmen and countrymen, we have finally received word from our brother, Prince John,” the king’s booming voice resonated in the air. His countenance was unreadable, his blue eyes veiled by the sweep of his long lashes, a thick fringe that did nothing to compromise the masculine strength and stern handsomeness of his face. “John will surrender the town of Nottingham to us, although he himself is kept hostage by Lord Peter Vaisey.  Our brother will hand the keys of Nottingham to us today at midday, but he also requests that we negotiate additional conditions of his complete surrender through our dear cousin, Lady Melisende Plantagenet, the Countess of Huntingdon and Countess de Bordeaux.”

Brief acclamations were followed a deathlike silence. The news that Prince John had been kept hostage by Vaisey was unexpected and shocking. If John wished to surrender the town, the question was how the prince was planning to do that and why he wished to have negotiations with the king through Melisende.

“What?” a puzzled Guy said to himself.

An astonished Megan uttered, “What does that mean?”

Guy was at a loss for a while, his brain working hard. “If Vaisey keeps Prince John captive, then I don’t understand how he is going to capitulate. Maybe that’s all a big lie, and the sheriff rigged a trap somewhere in the town so that he can attempt regicide again,” he speculated aloud.

Megan blanched. “You think that the prince is saying a falsehood, don’t you?”

His inspective eyes were darting between Richard, Melisende, and Robin. Then he directed his gaze at his betrothed. “I don’t know, Meg. I don’t know.”

“Prince John loves Lady Melisende, and she is one of the very few relatives who loves him despite his villainies and who treats him affectionately and with understanding. John hates Richard, but he also knows that he is cornered. Perhaps, the prince wants to talk to our king by using Melisende as an intermediary.”

Guy swallowed heavily. “It is possible.”

“Knights and soldiers,” King Richard continued in clear trumpet tones which could be heard perhaps even in Sherwood Forest and in Locksley, “Lord Vaisey is the lowest scum in England and in our empire! He dares keep hostage our royal brother against John’s own will! But John does really want to surrender completely, without Vaisey’s knowledge but after short negotiations with us.”

A roar of angry voices rang through the enormous camp as the king’s loyal knights expressed their rage.

Megan’s gaze was fixed on the king. “Guy, do you believe that the prince is Vaisey’s captive?”

Guy nodded slowly, as if still unsure what to think of the situation. “It can be true. A cornered Vaisey may do everything to survive.” He sighed. “But is can also be a trap for the king and Lady Melisende.”

“Family quarrel must be resolved before we start the assault,” Richard declared.

The king nodded at Robin, signaling that his grand favorite could speak. Robin looked grim despite his attempt to put on a neutral expression. “My comrades and kinsmen,” Robin began in a high voice, “we all are more than eager to receive Prince John’s surrender. We want to avoid bloodshed and fight with our own countrymen, and to achieve this, we are going to discuss and resolve some issues with Prince John, with my wife, Melisende, acting as a mediatrix between King Richard and Prince John.”

Guy stared glumly at Robin who wasn’t looking at him at all. “As usual, Robin is doing his best to avoid bloodshed. But doesn’t he understand that it can be very dangerous for Lady Melisende to go to Nottingham alone? Vaisey might murder her if he learns that Prince John began negotiations with his elder brother.”

“I think both King Richard and Robin are trying to avoid bloodshed and prefer negotiations with the prince,” Megan voiced her opinion in a quiet voice. “Now Richard and John are fighting for power in England, and the king is itching to avoid the impression that a civil war for the throne might unfold.”

Guy flitted his gaze to Megan and smiled at his fiancée’s political astuteness, thinking with admiration that the years she had spent with Queen Eleanor had taught her to be so shrewd and analytical. “You are correct, Meg. King Richard is trying to avoid the bloody fratricidal conflict by any means.”

During yesterday’s audience with King Richard, Guy had found the lion as ruthless and great at scheming and planning battles as he heard about the warrior king before. Actually, Guy had begun to respect Richard more, for the man clearly wasn’t interested in continuing family conflicts that would result in the bloodshed of his own countrymen or at least could send a wrong signal to the English commoners.

“If I am not mistaken, Richard never tried to kill any of his brothers,” she pointed out.

“It seems that our liege lord is not fond of the very idea to spill his brother’s blood.” That was true, but Guy also remembered that Richard had been very close to executing him in Acre.

She noticed the subtle change in his mood. “But the king once wanted you dead.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it was a different situation, and I deserved it.”

Megan stiffened. “Given that you are… You know what I mean.” She paused, looking at him squarely, and he nodded. “Now he just wants to avoid the continuation of war with John for the sake of the whole nation.”

King Richard finished his speech and then nodded at Robin, who approached Melisende and took her hand, kissing it reverently before glancing at her and then at the Lionheart. Richard said something else to Robin and Melisende and then to Robert de Beaumont; then the king descended the platform, and all the others followed him. The Lionheart and his generals, except for Roger de Lacy, stalked towards the royal tent and walked in; de Lacy headed to the place where Guy and Megan stood.

“Sir Guy of Gisborne,” Roger de Lacy said officially as he bowed to Guy and Megan.

“Sir Roger de Lacy,” Guy greeted officially.

Megan smiled at de Lacy. “Roger, I am glad to see you.”

Roger de Lacy smiled back at her. “Meg, you are such a beautiful flower!”

Megan laughed at Roger’s compliment. “Always a ladies man, Roger?”

A grinning Roger winked at her. “Of course, Meg. I am not going to change – never ever,” he said, a tiny smile quivering in the corners of his lips. Then he glanced at Guy. “Gisborne, don’t get me wrong. Meg and I are friends. We were playmates and grew up together at court in Aquitaine.”

“I understand.” Guy felt uncomfortable and out of place. He didn’t like Roger de Lacy who most likely still hated him, and he doubted that this hostile attitude would ever change.

Megan looked between Guy and Roger. “Does Prince John really want to surrender?”

Roger de Lacy inclined his head in confirmation. His expression was stern, and his eyes were flashing with ire as he was furious at John for all these plots. “Prince John is not a fool, and he knows that he lost the fight for the throne of England. Vaisey reached a stalemate, and he comprehends that he has almost lost the battle with King Richard. As John knows that Richard will never harm him, he wants to submit to his brother in feigned contrition, but Vaisey is not interested in that.”

“And that’s why Vaisey is keeping the prince captive,” Guy concluded.

“Exactly,” de Lacy continued in a dispassionate voice. “Vaisey doesn’t know that Prince John made up his mind to reconcile with his brother… on certain conditions, which will probably allow us to avoid the assault on the town. Maybe Vaisey suspects something, and this may put even the prince’s life in terrible jeopardy.”

Guy raised a brow. “What conditions?”

Roger de Lacy scowled. “This is Prince John, right?”

Megan smiled nastily. “And what does he want?”

De Lacy was quiet for a moment, apparently thinking whether he could proceed. He glanced between Guy and Megan, but he was aware that Richard kind of trusted Guy. “Prince John wants to be named King Richard’s heir officially instead of Prince Arthur.”

“I expected that,” Guy responded, seeking Megan’s hand, and their fingers entwined. “That would be not good for England, but it would end the conflict between the king and the prince.”

De Lacy smirked. “How can you know what is good and what is bad for England, Gisborne? You have been a puppet of Prince John and Vaisey for so long.”

The taunt burned into Guy, and the blood rose to his frowning brows, but he let his displeasure pass. He barely suppressed the desire to punch de Lacy in the grinning face. “It is not your deal, Lord de Lacy.”

Megan’s demeanor instantly shifted, and she regarded de Lacy coldly. “Roger, please stop this. I don’t want any quarrels between my future husband and my friend.” She prayed that de Lacy’s hellish temper wouldn’t explode right now.

De Lacy’s expression softened. “I am sorry, Meg. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Her lips were parted in a conciliatory smile. “I know, Roger. Just don’t malign Guy again.”

They stood in silence for a while, listening to the hushed whisperings of the king’s men all around them. Almost all of the soldiers already heard that Guy was among them with King Richard’s permission, and that puzzled them, for it was very usual to see Vaisey’s former henchman in the king’s camp and fighting against Prince John and Vaisey. The soldiers, who stood not far from Guy, Megan, and de Lacy, cast questioning glances at the three of them, wondering what they were discussing.

“Does the king intend to accept the prince’s conditions?” Guy broke the silence.

“Naturally. That will end their family quarrel,” Roger de Lacy replied flatly, struggling to maintain a neutral façade in front of Guy whom he despised. “King Richard has no legitimate son, and he will probably never have one with Queen Berengaria. Prince Arthur is too young to rule England in case something, God forbid–” He broke off abruptly, and crossed himself, “happens to Richard.”

Megan crossed herself as well. “I wish our king a long life and reign.”

“And so do I,” Guy said sincerely. He was astounded that de Lacy talked about such important things in Megan’s presence, but then he reminded himself that Megan was Queen Eleanor’s personal spy, King Richard’s trusted person and protégé in a way, and de Lacy’s friend.

De Lacy surveyed Guy with suspicion, but then, unexpectedly, he smiled bleakly. “We should pray that Richard remains our king as long as possible.” He lowered his voice. “Prince John favors me highly, but I love King Richard so much that I cannot imagine England without him.”

“Did the king give you orders for me, Lord de Lacy?” Guy questioned, looking at Roger.

“Yes, he did,” de Lacy answered. “Gisborne, take our twenty men and go to the eastern gate to arrange the evacuation of the population; this time, you are in charge. We should do this even despite our intention to avoid the assault.” He dragged a deep breath. “Archer and Allan are already waiting for you. Little John is with Robin. Robin’s other friends from Sherwood – Will and Djaq – are in Locksley with Lady Marian.”

“I will do that,” Guy pledged.

Megan inquired, “Roger, tell me when will Lady Melisende go to Prince John?”

Roger pondered over his reply for a moment. “Robin and I are going to accompany Lady Melisende to the secret meeting with Prince John.” He swung his gaze to Guy, smiling wryly. “Robin had a great time as an outlaw in Nottingham. He knows all the entrances and exits from the town.”

A smile tugged at Guy’s lips. “It has always been difficult to capture Robin Hood.”

“Robin is a genius,” de Lacy almost purred with a broad smile. “He is our Robin!”

“Indeed,” Megan and Guy said in chorus.

Roger de Lacy issued the last instructions to Guy. “Gisborne, you have only two hours for the evacuation of the civilians. During all this time, Lady Melisende will be talking with Prince John. He paused and looked around, watching his soldiers preparing their armor for the assault. As he gazed back at Guy, he continued in an urgent voice, “In two hours, the king, his cortege, and half of our troops will enter Nottingham and receive the keys, or we will begin a rampageous assault. Even if the prince gives us the keys and surrenders, there will be a fight with the Black Knights within the walls of the town, and some people will probably be killed. Regardless of the populace’s evacuation, we will attack if something goes wrong.”

Guy had a mission to fulfill: he had to protect the people from the potential harm that might be caused to them. The largest army in England was standing at Vaisey’s doorstep, but the former sheriff wasn’t terrified of fighting to death because the Black Knights had nothing to lose. Guy knew that the king had allowed him to take care of the populace only because Robin had requested the protection for innocents, and Robin trusted him enough with this task. He wasn’t going to fail Robin and the king.

Guy smiled and assured the other man, “We will cope within two hours. If we manage to open the gates, then we can not only evacuate the people – we will also open the entrance for the king’s army to march into Nottingham in a victorious way after the prince’s capitulation.”

De Lacy was skeptical that it would happen. “Don't wish too much, or your hopes might be dashed.” Then he bowed to them and walked way, heading to the king’s tent to meet with Melisende and Robin there.

“Guy,” Megan addressed her fiancé, “can I go with you to the gates?”

Guy sighed heavily. “It might be dangerous, Meg.”

Megan leaned closer to Guy, her expression both pleading and stubborn. “Guy, I want to accompany you.” She caressed his cheek, and then lightly traced his bottom lip with her finger while gazing deeply into his eyes. “I know Nottingham well enough. After my escape from Prince John’s guards, I often slipped into town covertly.” She smiled. “I know how to find the secret door in the wall near the eastern gates.”

“I offer a compromise,” he said. There was a ring of finality in his tone. “I will take you with me only if you promise to be very cautious and to stay close to me and Allan whatever happens.”

“I will do as you wish,” she conceded, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Guy.”

Guy pulled Megan into his arms, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Desire was flowing through her like a mighty rushing wind, and Megan wasn’t going to be satisfied with just a chaste kiss. She stood on her tiptoes and covered his mouth in a powerful kiss as her arms snaked around his neck. He kissed her back with matching ardor, provoking a more passionate response from her which drove him to madness. A pervasive heat was building up obstinately inside them, and their hearts were beating like the wings of a butterfly. They trembled, intoxicated by a heady mix of unrepressed hunger, danger, and temptation.

“Hmm,” Allan said as he appeared behind Megan and Guy. “You want to be alone, of course! You are two lovebirds crooning amorous songs! But I think that now we should go.”

Megan and Guy disentangled from each other and turned to face those who intruded on their sweet moment. There were Allan and Archer behind them, grinning at them widely.

An embarrassed Megan muttered, “I am sorry… It is a wrong timing.”

Archer grinned wickedly. “What a kiss on the battlefield!”

Guy blanched, but inside he was burning with shame. “I beg your pardon.”

After a series of jokes, Guy maneuvered the conversation to their mission. In a few minutes, Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan were on their way to the exit from the camp, where about twenty armed knights, Roger de Lacy’s men, were awaiting them. They mounted their horses and rode to the eastern gates of Nottingham, watching the sunrise that burned red in the cold sky. The soldiers looked at Guy with undisguised suspicion, but they listened to his commands and obeyed him because de Lacy had ordered to do that.

As they were nearing the town, screams rose in the air, sending shivers of dread down everyone’s spine. They had no idea what unknown hindrances they were facing, and a cloud of uncertainty was hanging over them. Guy and Archer shared alarmed glances, Megan quickly pulled herself together, and Allan looked as if he were trying to solve a complicated mathematical problem. The bewildered knights looked at Guy, waiting for his commands, and in the next moment, they received a signal to dismount and then head to the gates.

As soon as they jumped from their saddles, Vaisey appeared on the battlements, near the eastern gates. Vaisey’s eyes locked with Guy’s, and he sneered at his former henchman. Laughing malevolently, Vaisey lifted his hand, and, all of a sudden, a hail of arrows descended upon the king’s men who were barely able to duck in time. For some strange reason, Rebecca, Kate’s mother, stood behind Vaisey.

“Retreat!” Guy commanded to his men. He rushed to Megan and shielded her with his body as they were retreating back, hiding behind the panicking horses. “Be very cautious because this demon is still here!”

Vaisey broke into malicious laughter. “Gisborne, my boy, your idiotism never ceases to amuse me,” he said, motioning the archers to continue shooting. “Did it occur to you that _I have spies everywhere_?”

Guy exhaled in exasperation. “Damn Vaisey,” he cursed. “May he burn in hell…”

A frightened Allan cried out, “Rebecca is here! Vaisey has taken her hostage!” He wanted to rush towards the town’s walls, but Guy and Archer grabbed his shoulders to restrain him.

“Calm down, Allan!” Archer instructed, looking into Allan’s frantic eyes. “We cannot go there now.”

Allan shook his head. “She is Kate’s mother! We cannot leave her there!”

Guy grimaced, feeling perplexed that the mission had unexpectedly taken such a dangerous turn. “We will save her later. We won’t permit you to go there and have yourself killed!”

Vaisey’s behavior was a difficult conundrum for Guy. His former master again spoke about spies and was fully aware that they would go to the eastern gates. How Vaisey somehow guess their route? No, he couldn’t! There was a traitor among the king’s men who had somehow contacted the Black Knights and informed them about Robin’s idea to arrange the evacuation of the civilians from Nottingham.

Questions raced through Guy’s mind like scenes from a window of a speeding carriage: who was the spy and was it the same spy who had enlightened the sheriff about their plans to free Queen Eleanor from Pontefract? An outrageous thought struck Guy: could Rebecca be the spy whom they tried to find since the tragedy in Pontefract? After all, Rebecca had been at Locksley Manor yesterday. After the audience with the king, Guy had come back to Megan for a short visit and had discussed with her the king’s plans, and he had caught Kate’s mother eavesdropping. When Guy had been returning from Locksley to the king’s camp, a gnawing anxiety that he couldn't fathom had been building up in his stomach, and this feeling was still present. Guy hoped that Melisende’s negotiations with Prince John would not be derailed.

They quickly reached the top of the hill, where they hid well from the attack of Vaisey’s archers. Guy and everyone else had English longbows, which Robin had given them in addition to the knights’ usual armor just for protection, and Guy silently praised his former foe for this suggestion. Guy also realized why Robin had wanted the evacuation through the eastern gates: there was a large hill near the gates, where they could hide in case of an attack. These precautionary measures were great and effective.

Shielding Megan from flying arrows, Guy motioned to Archer and all the others to prepare their bows; then he took his longbow, and Megan handed him several arrows. Archer unshouldered his Saracen bow and his quiver of arrows, preparing to defend them. Allan and the others also had bows and arrows.

“Shoot!” Guy ordered as he fired an arrow and immediately took another arrow from Megan’s hands.

Vaisey screeched, “Gisborne, you are an idiot if you think that you will win without a fight!” He released an arrow in the direction of the hill where Guy and the others were hiding. “I will take down as many of the king’s men as I can! Today's warm bloodbath will be quite memorable; a finer slaughter you will never see! Many will die, and you will be one of them! I may be on the sinking ship, but I am still afloat!”

The small battle commenced with a quick flight of arrows. For a long time, Guy’s men acted proficiently on the defensive as Vaisey’s archers continued releasing a hail of arrows, though they didn’t hit their marks. Archer was shooting and killing Vaisey’s archers who stood on the walls, but Guy and the king’s soldiers often missed. Unfortunately, some of them were wounded by arrows, though not mortally, but Guy’s squad was running out of arrows, while the enemies seemed to have many in stock.

“I have no arrows left,” Allan complained as he ducked under the arrow that whizzed above his head.

“I have only two more,” Guy lamented.

Archer fired an arrow, and then another adversary fell down the wall to the ground. “I have only eleven arrows in my quiver.” His voice was tense but firm.

Megan sighed morbidly. “Should we retreat?”

Guy was dithering between returning to the camp and attempting to withstand the attack. “Let’s wait a little bit,” he decided prudently; he didn’t wish to fail the mission.

Guy blinked as he suddenly saw a hooded man on the other side of the hill. The man emerged as if out of nowhere and crouched, then removed his quiver of arrows and his bow from his back. Guy noticed that the unknown man was holding a Saracen recurved bow, targeting one of the archers standing on the walls of Nottingham. The man fired an arrow that struck the enemy in the throat with lethal accuracy. Then the mysterious man aimed at another archer and released an arrow that also hit that adversary in the neck.

“Deadly aim,” Archer commented as he used his last arrow.

A grin flourished on Allan’s face. “I don’t know who this man is, but he is our best hope to survive.”

Everyone turned to look at the hooded man who was shooting Vaisey’s archers with the same deadly accuracy which only Archer and Robin possessed. Vaisey had already discovered the unknown archer who had positioned himself quite far from the group of Guy’s men, and he instructed one of his archers to kill the hooded man. Guy and his companions could hear Vaisey’s furious shouts and his threats to punish all his archers if they failed to get rid of the hooded man.

Guy fired his last arrow but missed. “It seems I know who he has come here.”

Megan surveyed her betrothed curiously. “Who is he?”

Archer gave Guy enigmatic glances, and then they nodded at each other, their expressions strained. They realized that Malcolm of Locksley was saving them from Vaisey’s archers. They had no clue as to how Malcolm had managed to arrive there in time, but they couldn’t deny that the timing of his appearance was crucial. Neither Guy nor Archer liked Malcolm, but now they were glad to receive his assistance.

A doleful sigh tumbled from Guy’s lips. “Just a man, Meg.”

Megan gave Guy a pointed look. “If you don’t think I can know, then so be it.”

Guy didn’t respond, staring at Malcolm. They were already out of arrows and lay hidden, observing the unexpected ally who was saving their lives. They heard Vaisey’s orders, and then more arches appeared on the wall in sight, while Kate’s mother disappeared. Malcolm started shooting them again, and soon, all went still: the attack was over, but Malcolm had already mysteriously left the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> Many thanks to Coleen561 and Mademoiselle Nathalie for sharing their thoughts about the finale and for helping with some scenes.
> 
> King Richard the Lionheart finally returned to England. There is a brief description of the events that followed the king’s return, starting from his arrival at the port of Sandwich and then to Nottingham. The account of Richard’s return to England is historically correct, except for the time of his return. In this epic, the siege doesn’t happen in March 1194, but in March 1196, because in 1194, the king is said to be in the Holy Land. These historical inaccuracies were created not by me but by the show’s writers, and I didn’t change anything because if I did that, I would have had to change the whole plot of part 1 & 2 (“Mysteries of the Past” and “Mysteries Unveiled”), where Robin spends most of the time in the Holy Land.
> 
> Now the town of Nottingham is besieged by the Lionheart’s powerful army, and the dramatic finale of this epic will unfold in the next few chapters. There is one important inaccuracy in these final chapters: in history, Prince John wasn’t in Nottingham during the siege as he retreated to Normandy, where Richard finally found him later that year, but I needed the prince to be here in this story/novel.
> 
> Robin is reunited with King Richard at last, and they both are happy to see each other again. I thought that Robin and Richard deserve to have another heart-to-heart conversation which shows the deepening of their brotherly relationship and also explains some changes in Robin’s perception of the king (Robin no longer views Richard as God’s incarnate ect.). Guy also has an audience with King Richard, and you can see that their relationship evolved into something akin to a practical union of a wise king and his loyal subject. Richard doesn’t love Guy, but he begins to respect and trust Guy. King Richard also rewards Guy through his future marriage to Megan, which reflects the historical fact known about the Lionheart – the king was generous to those who served him well and loyally. Robin has a cordial brotherly relationship with the king while Guy’s relationship with the king is based on cold pragmatism.
> 
> Melisende will have negotiations with Prince John; Robin is accompanying her there. Marian wasn’t allowed to go to the king’s camp and to Nottingham to avoid putting her life in danger, but that doesn’t mean that she will obey the king’s orders. Guy has an important mission: assisted by Megan, Archer, Allan, and the king’s men, Guy goes to Nottingham to protect the populace. Guy will be quite heroic in the next chapter, which is going to change the attitude of the local people to him – they will warm up to him. Vaisey already begins to act when he sees Guy and the others; he has Rebecca for some reason.
> 
> I warned you that the siege is bloody, and something unexpected might happen to several characters. I also assured you that Robin and Guy would both survive but would have to experience a tragedy. Now I am asking you again to be ready for a lot of drama ahead for Robin and Guy; there will be scenes of bloodshed and violence in later chapters. You know that Robin and Guy will survive and will find peace in the end, and that should be enough for you for now. Please relax and brace yourself for drama.


	15. A Farewell Gift

**Chapter 15**

**A Farewell Gift**

As Vaisey’s archery attack was over, Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan mounted and galloped towards the outer walls of Nottingham. Megan told Guy that they could use a secret passage to get into the town and then open the gates to evacuate the people who were all kept hostage by Vaisey. As they climbed a hill, Megan spurred on her horse, riding past the eastern gates of Nottingham; the others followed her.

Megan tightened the reigns and stopped her horse near the wall where the entrance to the secret passages was. “It is here,” she announced.

Guy stopped next to her. “Are you sure that there is an entrance to the town here?”

An offended Megan bristled, “Do you really think that I am deceiving you?”

Guy smiled. “Of course, not,” he said gently. He examined the walls carefully but failed to find the way to the tunnels from the surface. “How are you going to get inside?”

Allan caught Guy’s gaze. “Well, mates, I am not being funny, but I cannot fly.”

Archer scoffed. “And why do you need to fly, Allan?”

Allan joked, “I cannot find the secret door. Either this door is masked too well, or there is nothing here. And I don’t have wings to fly over the walls.”

Megan jumped down from her saddle. “Allan, shut up. I know what I am doing.” In three strides, she was near a meadow right near the wall.

Guy, Archer, and Allan also hopped down from their horses and approached Megan, giving her questioning looks. The king’s men dismounted and waited for Guy’s command.

Megan crouched near the meadow, then put her hand on the wall and touched the stone. “I need to find the magical stone. If we push it, we will be able to open the secret door to the tunnels,” she stated as she began to carefully grope the stone surface.

Guy and Allan knew very well that there was a sophisticated system of the old tunnels behind Nottingham; Allan had learned about it when he had served Guy. Guy and Allan were able to navigate through the tunnels while avoiding a variety of obstacles. But Megan knew the entrances and exits from the town through the outer walls better than Guy and Allan; Sir Hugh Bennet had shown her the tunnels and several secret passages so that his daughter could find a way out of Nottingham if her life was in peril.

Archer exclaimed, “There are so many unknown things in Nottingham!”

“Not as many as in the East, Archer,” Guy remarked with a smirk.

Archer’s face split into a grin. “That is true, brother.”

“Meg, how is it going?” Allan questioned impatiently.

Megan pushed at one of the stones with all her strength and felt the hollow sound beneath her hand. “I have found it!” She glanced at Guy, a triumphal smile on her face.

Guy flashed a smile. “I have never doubted you, Meg.”

Megan pointed at the stone she had discovered and stepped aside. Guy and Archer crouched and pushed the stone with all their might, and then pushed again. They heard the grinding noise and then removed the stone to see a large hollow space in the wall.  

“My goodness! This looks great!” Archer’s ebullient voice resonated.

“I am intrigued,” Allan added.

Guy rose to his feet, looking at Megan. “What next?”

“You need to unlock the door through this hollow space,” Megan instructed. “But I don’t have the keys here, so you have to work on the lock.”

Guy’s gaze slid to Allan. “Allan, will you help us?”

Allan strolled towards the wall. “Certainly, mates. I will charge you a payment for that!”

“No,” Archer countered. “It goes free of charge as it is for the king and the people!”

Guy chuckled. “Indeed.”

For a while, they stood watching Allan work on the lock of the inner door.  “It is done,” he notified at last.

They watched the invisible door slowly open as if mesmerized. They could see the stairs and the entrance to a dark tunnel. It was really a superb escape route if one didn’t mind encountering some rats and mice.

“We need light. Lit several torches,” Megan instructed. “You will have to follow me because you will get lost otherwise. There are many twists and turns there.”

“Where will we get out at the end of the tunnel?” Allan asked curiously.

“Somewhere in Queen Street on the surface level,” Megan answered. “This is close to the eastern gates.”

“Excellent.” Archer was busy with lighting several torches.

“We should go,” Megan urged as she took a step towards the door.

Guy stepped to Megan. “I will be watching you closely for your protection.”

Megan frowned. “Guy, I am not a child. I know the way.”

Guy shook his head. “Everything might happen.”

Soon they were walking through the tunnel, with Megan leading everyone. There were many turns and twists there, and, sometimes, Megan paused and examined the surroundings, trying to identify the right direction; but she knew her way well and easily led everyone to their destination. They turned left and entered another long tunnel; finally, they saw the bleak light that leaked into the tunnels from a small window near the ceiling. When they reached the exit from the tunnel, Allan quickly and expertly unlocked the large wooden door, and soon they exited into the sunlight in a deserted lane.

Allan looked around. “There is nobody here.”

“This is good, though suspicious,” Archer muttered.

Guy sighed. “Allan and Archer, go wake the people. You will tell them that a collective escape for them is being arranged through the eastern gates.” He swung his gaze to Allan. “Ten knights will accompany you to prove that you are the king’s representatives.”

Archer and Allan nodded wordlessly. Allan knew Nottingham very well and could lead everyone.

"Guy," Megan called in a disgruntled voice.

“Meg, you are going with us to the gates,” Guy said uncompromisingly.

"Don’t you want to help collect the people?" Megan asked.

A sad Guy ruminated, “They don’t like and trust me. If I go there, they will probably think that I am lying to them, trying to lure them out and snare them into a trap.” He sighed. “I have faith in Allan and Archer: they will take care of the people while we will prepare everything for the evacuation.”

Megan smiled sadly. Allan and Archer again nodded as they agreed with Guy’s assessment of risks. The people would be really suspicious if Vaisey’s former henchman suddenly appeared at their doorstep and asked them to go somewhere. Even if Guy beseeched them to believe him, they would still be suspicious of him, fearing that he would probably kill them if they followed him. The news that Guy had been fighting among King of England’s soldiers in the siege didn’t reach most of the people yet, so they had to be cautious.

After Archer and Allan had left with ten knights, Guy rapidly assembled the remaining warriors and issued new orders. As everyone bowed, a befuddled Guy gazed at them speechless. He didn’t think that nobody would question his decisions. He knew that King Richard had ordered everyone to obey him, but he was also aware that some knights were not pleased to be under the command of a pardoned traitor.

In a few moments, they were walking down the street, with Guy and Megan at the helm of the procession and a contingent of soldiers following them. The streets were almost deserted at this early hour. They met only a few people who stopped in their tracks at the sight of Guy and the king’s men; Megan enlightened them about the evacuation, and they agreed, although some looked at Guy with alarm mingled with amusement. Soon they reached the gates, and Guy barked instructions to his men.

"How different it is to command the king’s men instead of the sheriff’s guards,” Guy commented, his eyes focused on the soldiers who started opening the gates.

Megan smiled at him. “Do you feel better now, Guy?”

“Definitely,” he confirmed.

Guy and Megan watched the knights slowly open the gates, each of them obviously relieved that the task was done. In the next moment, Archer appeared in a narrow lane that faced the gates; he was leading a large group of people who carried only a few possessions as they had been woken up by the king’s men in haste and warned to leave the town through the provided escape route. More people were arriving at the gates, all of them looking haggard and exhausted, for they barely slept since Vaisey had taken Prince John and the population hostage. Guy and Megan noticed their murky expressions tinged with agitation and habitual fear.

In the past hour, Archer and Allan had knocked at the doors of many cottages and havens to rouse all these people. As Archer had introduced himself as Robin Hood’s brother, he had been welcomed with hearty smiles. Archer had explained to them that King Richard had ordered the evacuation of the civilians. They instantly recognized Allan, one of Robin Hood’s men, even though they were aware that he had betrayed Robin. But very few people asked questions and obeyed because Archer and Allan showed their outlaw tags, and as the people of Nottinghamshire loved and trusted their hero.

Archer motioned the people to head to the gates, and a large crowd followed him like they would have followed Robin. As they had reached the gates, some people stopped at the sight of Guy of Gisborne, their eyes were on fire with fright. More and more people crowded around Allan and Archer, not wishing to move closer to Guy. Exclamations of disapproval and displeasure filled the cold air when they saw Guy with the king’s men, and everyone stared at Archer and Allan in anticipation.

In a high voice, Archer pontificated, “The people of Nottingham, you don’t worry! You have nothing to fear! King Richard tasked Sir Guy of Gisborne with drawing up a meticulous plan of action that would allow us to take all of you to safety. Today, we have come here to rescue you!”

“Maybe the king pardoned Gisborne, but we cannot forget about what he did to us,” a middle-aged woman from Clun said, her eyes shooting daggers at Guy. “This man arrested my two sons when we didn’t pay taxes. One of my boys died in the dungeons.”

An old man declared, “This mongrel of a man and a dog murdered my son in Nettlestone two years ago! We appreciate what Robin Hood’s men are doing for us, but you have to understand us. We must protect our homes and families, and this man is dangerous for us. You cannot ask us to trust him.”

“This devil is a cool-blooded murderer,” a village girl continued.

Guy hung his head in shame; his spirits plummeted like stones from a quarry. The people had spoken the truth that had stabbed him into the heart. Megan’s hand squeezed his, and he smiled at her tenderly, grateful for the moral support; her touch healed him, and his intense pain lessened.

Archer waved his hand for silence. “Guy committed many wrongs, but the King of England pardoned him at Robin Hood’s request,” he affirmed as he swept his eyes over the mob. “Do you think that Robin would have asked the king to extend forgiveness to Gisborne if he hadn’t trusted him?”

“Well, maybe Robin Hood made peace with Gisborne,” the same middle-aged woman from Clun fired back, “but we cannot forget what he did to us.”

Allan advanced forward and stopped in front of the crowd. “Listen to me!” he appealed to them. “Guy risked his life to rescue Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine from Pontefract Castle months ago, and he saved Robin Hood’s life that day!” He paused, collecting his thoughts. He wanted to defend Guy; he also attempted to deflate the people’s anger. “How can you be afraid of Guy if he saved the life of our hero?”

A hush fell as the people contemplated the situation. Some of them had the decency to look ashamed and nodded at Allan and Archer. But many were still skeptical, glaring at Guy fiercely, as if the two speeches in Guy’s defense by Robin Hood’s men were lies; as if everything bad in their lives could be laid at his door.

The silence was broken by an angry shout. “Gisborne served Vaisey for years, and now the sheriff took the whole town hostage! Do you expect us to believe that Gisborne is not complicit with Vaisey’s new plot?”

A clearly irritated Megan bent her head and whispered into Guy’s ear, “I am vexed with them. We must do something.” She stepped forward, intending to talk to the folks.

Guy gripped her forearm to keep her from leaving. “Stop, Meg. It is my turn.”

“I will go with you,” she insisted.

“Fine,” he said with gratitude.

Gisborne and Megan walked towards the crowd, and some people backed away from them. Guy and his fiancée didn’t come closer and paused in the middle of the street.

Guy wasn’t a brilliant and passionate speaker, like Robin, who always found the right words to lead, inspire, and persuade, championing social justice and the downtrodden. Nonetheless, he couldn’t resist the urge to say something very important, his words coming from his heart. “I am not your enemy!” he effused. “I have come to Nottingham at King Richard’s order and at Robin of Locksley’s request, and I feel truly honored to be here and fight for our king and our the people,” he announced in a steady, confident voice; his expression was not cynical but rather vulnerable. “Robin has been kind to me since our meeting in Acre when he was almost mortally wounded by Vaisey, and I am grateful to him for his fair treatment of me. I am also grateful for the chance Robin gave me to live a new life and correct your mistakes.”

"No," a young woman cried out. “You cannot return to life those whom you killed.”

Guy raised a pleading hand, signaling for silence. “I don’t deny that I committed heinous crimes.” His voice was trembling, and he endeavored to control his emotions. “I know that I cannot take back what I did, and that I probably don’t deserve absolution.” Pausing, he scanned the crowd and went on. “But I wish to make amends! I sincerely wish to prove that I can be a better man worthy of being King Richard’s loyal subject and of fighting alongside with Robin Hood and his men.”

Archer and Allan smiled at Guy, impressed by Guy’s public acknowledgment of his faults. Megan stared at Guy in fascination, feeling proud of Guy. Guy didn’t use any sweeping exaggerations and didn’t gloss over his own reputation and status, and the honest proclamation of his noble intentions was his power.

Megan took Guy’s hand in hers, and their fingers entwined like bodies of two lovers expecting heady, exciting times ahead. She introduced herself and received a warm welcome from the mob, many of whom were acquainted with or heard about her esteemed father. "A man deserves a second chance, especially if he is able to openly recognize his faults,” she stated, her gaze embracing the crowd. “King Richard and Robin of Locksley believed in Guy and gave him a chance, and now you all should follow suit.” She turned her head to Guy, a serene smile on her face. “I am proud to share great news with you: I will soon become Sir Guy of Gisborne’s wife! I swear on all I hold dear that Guy is loyal to England, our king, and our people!”

Guy swallowed nervously; he felt that the vow to change his life bound him to fulfill it. Megan looked at Guy with eyes shining with devotion; then she veered her gaze to the people. Allan and Archer watched the people’s features changing into various shades of emotions as they were slowly accepting the new Guy.

Then, the people nodded at Guy, and some sent him approving smiles. Guy also heard congratulations on his wedding from those who knew Sir Hung Bennet and Megan. Allan and Archer signaled to move to the gate, and the folks obeyed, although a few grumbled, glowering at Vaisey’s former master-at-arms. Guy commanded the knights to protect the gates and the population, and the evacuation finally started.

§§§

Soon a large crowd of people gathered near the eastern gates of Nottingham. Guy stood near the gateway, giving orders to the king’s knights to observe every move nearby in order to prevent a potential attack. Guy commanded Archer and two other archers to go to the battlements and keep the surroundings under surveillance. A proud Megan stood at Guy’s side, watching him converse with the king’s men. The people and villagers obeyed Guy’s commands, although some threw at him insults and accusations.

Guy ordered one of the men to oversee the evacuation and then stalked towards Allan and Megan. “You say there are so few Vaisey’s soldiers in the town,” he addressed Allan.

Allan gave a curt nod. “Exactly, Guy.”

Guy’s emotions were tinged with misgivings. “I fear there is a trap here.”

Megan glanced around, a caliginous cloud of anxiety hanging over her. “There is nobody of Vaisey’s men near the gates. There must be a trap,” she speculated. She heard Guy sigh warily, and her heart dropped at that sound; she went on. “What do you want me to do, Guy?” She wanted to put Guy’s mind at ease.

Guy smiled at her gratefully. Megan wasn’t as reckless as Marian, and it brought additional comfort to him. “Just stay close to me, Meg. I will tell you what to do.”

“I will,” she promised, her blue eyes solemn. “I know that we won’t die today, my most handsome dark knight in Christendom.” She hit him playfully on the chest. “

Allan chuckled. “At times, you, Meg, remind me of Robin and Lady Melisende.”

Megan flashed a slow, luminous smile. “I am not as mischievous as they are, but I like some fun.”

“You do like fun, don’t you?” Guy asked his fiancée.

"I do," she said to her fiancé. “I like all fun with you.”

Guy smiled at her. “There will be time for happiness later, Meg.”

“Oh!” Allan chortled.

She nodded. “I know.”

“Mates, I have to tell you something else,” Allan started in a tone of importance.   “We met Robin and Lady Melisende in one of the streets. They were returning from the negotiations with Prince John.”

“Pray continue,” Guy requested.

“Tell us everything, Allan,” Megan admonished.

Allan took the outlaw tag from his pocket and fastened it round his neck. “Prince John agreed to surrender the town as King Richard announced to his men in the camp. There were only Robin and Lady Melisende during those negotiations, and the prince was accompanied by Lady Isabella of Gisborne.”

“Isabella was there?” Guy’s voice sounded hollow.

“Robin told me that,” Allan confirmed.

“Are you sure that Prince John is surrendering?” Guy’s voice was suspicious and tense.

"Yes," Allan said with certainty. “Robin said that Prince John is in deep waters. Therefore, he wants to surrender and help deal with Vaisey and the Black Knights.”

Guy smiled ironically. “This is hilarious! Vaisey was betrayed by his own master!”

Allan gave a loud laugh. “Yes, mates, this is really funny!”

Megan chuckled. “It is different to your trademark expression, Allan.”

Guy laughed quietly. “It is probably the first time when you change what you say.”

There was a mischievous twinkle in Allan’s eyes. “It is an unkind request, Guy."

Guy, Allan, and Megan broke into a merry laugh. Suddenly, they heard the clash of metal and loud war cries somewhere in a nearby street. The population had already suffered terribly during the days of them being kept hostage by the sheriff, and now a panic seized them. Guy made another speech, asking everyone to keep composure and continue the evacuation; he commanded the knights to prepare for the battle.

Guy put his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. “Perhaps, it is Vaisey’s trap.”

Allan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Guy gave him a questioning look. “Why?”

“Robin said that Prince John gave them the keys from the secret tunnel that leads to the River Trent from Nottingham,” Allan reported. “Roger de Lacy is taking his men through this tunnel to the town in order to make the assault easier. They are also planning to take some of the king’s army through the eastern gates.”

“Then, the battle in the center of the town has already started,” Megan concluded.

 “Robin was intending to leave Nottingham through the same secret passage they used for entrance. and then to return to the king’s troops,” Allan answered.

“Good. It is better for Robin,” Guy spelled out with obvious relief.

Allan stiffened, and a dark cloud covered his features. “We need to save Rebecca.” He sighed heavily. “Kate will never forgive me if we allow Vaisey to cause her mother any harm.”

Guy looked at his friend anxiously. “Maybe Rebecca is a spy,” he voiced his thoughts.

Allan blanched, shaking his head. “No, it is impossible. I refuse to think so!”

“I am sorry, Allan,” Guy apologized, “but I think that it is true.”

Guy sent Allan to the other knights, for they had to remain alert. Guy and Megan stood in silence, listening to the sounds of the ongoing fierce battle somewhere in the center. They heard Roger de Lacy’s loud voice giving commands in Norman-French to protect the people during the fight.

“For King Richard! For England! Kill these wretched traitors!” Roger de Lacy bellowed, and everyone near the eastern gates heard his war cry. The yelling king’s men charged into the battle.

Guy ran to the knights who guarded the gates; he ordered to his squad to protect the people who waited for their turn to leave Nottingham. The king’s soldiers hurried to the gates from nearby streets and surrounded the area. Apparently, de Lacy and his men had already sneaked into the town through one of the secret passages in the outer walls of the town, as Allan had mentioned.

Gisborne smiled to himself, hoping that soon they would celebrate the victory in the great hall of the Castle of Nottingham. The town was fortified and looked imposing with its moats and earthworks, strengthened by its formidable walls dominated by the great tower of the castle, but it was not nearly as unassailable as Pontefract Castle. Sooner or later, the royal troops would defeat Vaisey.

Sir Roger de Tosny appeared near the eastern gates in the company of fifty soldiers. Guy ordered to divide gates: one part was used by the people for the exit and the other for the entrance of the king’s soldiers into the town. Many folks stood near the gates, yearning to go to freedom; the king’s soldiers were entering Nottingham one by one, forming a long line.

Roger de Tosny dismounted and stalked towards Guy and Megan. He bowed to Megan, giving her and his old friend a smile. “Lady Megan and Guy, I am happy to see you!”

Guy smiled broadly. “I am delighted to see you too, Roger.”

Megan returned a light smile. “Call me Meg. After all, I will be Guy’s wife soon.”

“Then you should call me Roger,” de Tosny replied with a smile, looking between Guy and Megan; then his gaze fixed on Guy. “It is so good to see you at our side, Guy.”

Guy smiled modestly. “You know, Roger, I am pleased to be with the king’s men.”

“You are doing well with the evacuation,” de Tosny commented with appreciation.

“That is true,” Megan uttered proudly.

Guy shrugged. “I am doing my duty to the king and the people.” He smirked at the thought that he of all men had said that. The most astonishing words were about his duty to the people, but he didn’t lie.

The king’s men who surrounded the area began to push closer to the gates as Vaisey’s mercenaries and a small army of the Black Knights launched an attack. Sheriff Vaisey, Sir Walter Sheridan, and Blamire led the army of traitors that appeared in a nearby street; Sheridan was going to command the attack while Vaisey came to gloat and try to murder Guy.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah! Gisborne, we meet again! It is far from the end!” Vaisey cried out, sneering. “My boy, you don’t have common sense if you think that your plan to take Nottingham will go smoothly! My words were prophetic: you are a complete fool!”

Sheridan laughed maliciously. “Lord Vaisey, your assessment of Gisborne’s idiocy was correct. Gisborne should have already realized that we would not capitulate.”

A tide of unbridled rage rolled over Guy. “Vaisey, the air is poisoned with the fetid odor of death when you are around!” he shrilled menacingly. “But your time is over!”

Although Vaisey was relatively far from the gates, the sheriff and Guy stared vilely at one another with eyes blazing with inhuman contempt and rage. The inextinguishable, deep-seated hatred was palatable between them, as if they had always been barely restraining the urge to be at each other's throats. Vaisey wore a death’s grin on his lips, the forerunner of certain demise to his adversary, Guy, or to someone else today. But Guy was a man of tormented conscience, not a man of a criminal imagination, and, thus, he couldn’t even suspect that Vaisey was planning to do the worst villainy today.

Vaisey’s response was a viperish laugh. “Gizzy, my boy, a brisk fire of hate and vengeance is burning in my heart. But today is a great day for me!” His voice rose an octave as his heart thumped in an excitement he hadn't felt for many long years. “I have a farewell gift for Robin Hood! I swear that today the fame of our forest hero will pale to nothingness.” He clenched his teeth. “As for you, my boy, I swear you will have to endure agony a thousand times worse than killing a body, and no plea will save you!” He promptly guided his horse into a nearby street and rode off, leaving Sheridan to command the battle.

The sheriff’s words unsettled Guy profoundly, but he was relieved that Vaisey was gone. His mind floated to Rebecca whom they had seen with Vaisey on the battlements in the morning, and a sense of premonition passed over him. Questions circled his mind: where was Rebecca now, and what was she planning to do?

“Guy,” Megan called as she stepped closer to him. “He is gone. What now?”

“I am sure he will return.” Gisborne unsheathed his sword and gently pushed Megan back, shielding her from the battle and all perils. “Meg, stay behind me.” His voice was urgent.

She ripped her sword from the scabbard. “I will do as we agreed.”

They watched Sheridan exchange a couple of words with Blamire and heard his order to attack. In the next moment, at least fifty heavily armed knights emerged from one of the adjacent lanes and attacked the king’s soldiers – Roger de Tosny’s men and Guy’s men.

“Protect the people!” Guy screamed over and over again.

"Kill them all! For King Richard! For England!" Roger de Tosny shouted in Norman-French; he repeated the same in English, then. He then unsheathed his sword.

“For England!” Guy echoed Roger’s scream as he charged into the battle.

A formidable panic struck the townspeople who tried to escape the battlefield only to be prevented from doing that by the king’s men, mainly Guy’s men, who forced them back; their voices were thick cries of panic and fear. Roger de Tosny’s warriors were already battling with the Black Knights. The trumpets blew, and, in a few moments, the king’s men began a new offensive. Archer, who was on the battlements, ordered several men to shoot, and they fired volleys of arrows at the enemies.

Guy was right: Vaisey had come back after the meeting with Rebecca in a place where she always came to pass on information to him. Rebecca proved to be a reliable ally, and Vaisey was going to use her help today.

Vaisey howled with laughter. “My archers, shoot them, my sweet boys!”

Sheridan took his bow and targeted one of the king’s men. “Fire!” he roared.

“Archers, shoot!” Roger de Tosny’s voice echoed through the air. “Fire!”

"Meg, duck when they will shoot," Guy instructed, looking at his betrothed.

Megan looked absolutely calm. "Don’t worry. I know what to do, Guy.”

“So willful,” Guy growled, his expression concerned.

“My father taught me to use many weapons,” Megan reminded him, her eyes darting between Guy and the ugly figure of Vaisey on the black stallion. “I can fight very well.”

Guy sighed. “I know. Just be careful, please.”

Laughing together with Vaisey, Lord Sheridan gave another command, and then the sheriff’s archers appeared at the opposite end of the street. In an instant, Guy and Megan heard screams of pain as the first arrows of Vaisey’s archers hit the king’s men. Roger de Tosny ducked under an arrow, and two more whizzed in several inches from the heads of Guy and Megan. De Tosny’s archers answered with great volleys of their own, and many bodies of the Black Knights lay riddled with arrows.

Although Guy tried to protect Megan, now they had to fight hand to hand in combat. Swinging his sword at his enemies, Guy did his best to stay near Megan, and Allan followed suit. When Guy noticed that Megan was attacked by two enemies, his heart sank in fear that she was about to be harmed in some way. With a yell of rage, Guy plunged his sword into the stomach of a mercenary; then he turned and delivered a vicious blow at the other opponent’s midsection. Allan was also busy with his own battle.

Megan was awash in relief when she finished off one of her two attackers, but the second man was more skilled with sword than her. Their swords intersected, and parted, and clashed anew. The Black Knight thrust at her with all the anger he had left in their fight, and Megan narrowly ducked a broad sweep of the blade. Then Guy rushed to her and bisected the man’s chest in a downward diagonal slash, blood escaping the wound. The soldier gurgled with blood and went still.

The beads of sweat were dripping down the side of Guy's face. Some of his fear was evaporating by now, and all that he could do was looking into Megan’s beautiful eyes. “Meg, your father did a great job when he trained you,” he commended her. “Your swordplay is great for a lady, but I still want you to be cautious.”

Megan winked at him. “And it is even more amazing for a lady.”

“Damn them!” Allan cursed aloud as he lunged at his enemy. “Damn them!”

Their ears registered Vaisey’s venomous laugh. “Take it, Gizzy, my treacherous boy!”

Guy, Allan, and Megan were again attacked; they blocked and parried, dodging from blows and ducking from arrows. Guy lashed out with his sword at another foe, severing the man’s arm and then bisecting his neck. He began to dream that Malcolm of Locksley would again appear out of nowhere and assist them in defeating the Black Knights. Guy narrowly dodged from the blow that could have decapitated him; he then finished off another assassin who could overpower his fiancée. Then Guy advanced forward, intending to stab another adversary and barely able to duck from an arrow that passed over his head.

As Guy plunged his sword into his opponent’s heart, he noticed an arrow flying right into his neck, and there was no way he could sidestep or duck. Guy could hear Vaisey’s voice commanding his archers to shoot him, and then the sheriff broke into a maniacal laughter at the realization of Guy’s seemingly ineluctable death. Guy felt his blood run cold, and hatred for his former master burned within him like an ember just waiting to ignite.

Time slowed as Guy prepared to meet his maker. Suddenly, someone pushed Guy away from the arrow, and he tumbled to the snow-covered ground. Guy felt his heart hammering harder as he saw the hooded man in a dark brown cloak – he lay on his back next to Guy, an arrow protruding out of his chest. The man was his savior! Guy’s eyes locked with Malcolm of Locksley’s, and Gisborne shuddered, shaking his head in disbelief. The battle was still raging around as the king’s men were deflecting the attack of Black Knights.

Guy shifted his body closer to Malcolm. “Why?” His voice reflected his astonishment.

Malcolm smiled bleakly. “I killed Ghislane,” he said hoarsely. “By chance I took her life, but I didn’t want to cause her death.” Tears sprang into his eyes. “I did really love her very much.”

Guy swallowed hard. “I believe you.”

“Guy, I made many mistakes. I… had a debt to you,” Malcolm murmured in a weak voice. “I saved… your life to repay this debt.”

A flood of pity drove out all the hatred from Guy’s heart. “Thank you, Malcolm.”

Malcolm moaned as pain slashed through him. “Can you forgive me?”

Guy nodded slightly. “I do forgive you.”

“Robin,” Malcolm murmured, his breathing becoming shallower. “I am proud of him; he is a better man I could ever be. Tell him that I love him most of all in the world, and ask him for forgiveness.”

“I will.” Resentment revived in Guy. “What about Archer?”

“Archer, my second son,” Malcolm uttered, a faint smile on his face. “I am so glad that I found him before my hour of death came.” He inhaled and coughed up blood. “Tell him that I love him; he is a good boy. I know Robin will take care of him.”

Guy gave a lugubrious smile; bitterness filled him at the thought that Malcolm loved Robin more than Archer. “I will tell Robin and Archer what you wish.”

A sincere smile manifested on Malcolm’s scarred features. “Thank you.”

“Hold on, Lord Malcolm,” Guy encouraged. “I will try to find a doctor.”

A sharp familiar female voice stopped Guy. “I will not allow you to save this man.”

Guy flitted his gaze to the intruder, and then clambered to his feet. His features changed into perfect astonishment as he saw Rebecca standing near Malcolm and him. “You,” he said in a half-whisper.

“Me,” Rebecca responded curtly.

Guy wanted to talk to her but was suddenly attacked by a soldier. “We will talk later!”

Rebecca seized her chance to realize her long-cherished dream. She drew the sword which one of Vaisey’s accomplices had given her, and stepped to Malcolm, glaring down at him like a tiger catching its prey. There was a jumble of savagery and intense hostility in every lineament of Rebecca’s countenance. As soon as their eyes met, recognition occurred, and Malcolm’s calm face transformed into horror.

Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Rebecca,” he called, his whole being seized with dread.

Glaring fiercely into Malcolm’s eyes, Rebecca hissed, “When I learned that you survived the fire at Gisborne Manor and staged your death, I decided to make you pay for the disgrace you brought upon me. My reputation was blemished after my affair with you.”

“How did you learn about me?” he choked out.

”Once I saw you and Thornton at Locksley Manor,” she replied in a sibilant voice. “I heard only one of your conversations, but that was enough for me. If I knew where I could find you, I would go to the ends of the earth to avenge my infamy. I am lucky that Lord Vaisey helped me find a way to retaliate.”

Malcolm whispered, “What are you…” He broke off as a tide of pain went through him.

Rebecca raised her sword over her former lover. “Revenge,” she enunciated with a wild smile, her eyes beastly and unhinged. “I have never liked Robin Hood, your beloved son. But today this damned outlaw will pay too.” With a grunt of hatred and satisfaction, she drove her sword into Malcolm’s chest and gave it a wrenching twist, her vengeful soul combining with the steel of the weapon. Her lips curled into a gloating grin as she added, “Burn in hell, Malcolm!”

“Robin…” Malcolm wheezed out. He then shut his eyes and drew his last breath.

A shaken Guy froze a step from Rebecca. “What have you done?” He had slain his enemy a few moments before Malcolm’s death and couldn’t have saved Robin’s father.

Rebecca glowered at Guy. “Malcolm slept with both Lady Ghislaine and me. He assured me that he would wed your mother and that he loved her.” She paused, her voice cracking. “He seduced me and filled me with his child. Nobody knew about my pregnancy, and after the fire, he was believed to be dead by the time when I began to show. My parents urgently married me off to Eadwine, a local potter from Locksley.” She pointed at Malcolm’s corpse, her features contorted in ghastly aversion. “Eadwine didn’t know that he wedded a woman who was carrying our deceased lord’s child. But when he discovered the deception, a burning hatred was born in him that day. My husband abused me until his passing five years ago, despite the two other children I bore to Eadwine, one of whom you killed, Gisborne. My life was a living hell thanks to Malcolm.”

Guy asked incredulously, “Kate is Malcolm’s daughter?”

“Yes, she is,” Rebecca nodded, her eyes full of venom. “Hood will pay too!” Before Guy could stop her, she ran into a nearby street and disappeared from sight.

Guy’s heart was thundering wildly, and terror gripped him like a mouse beneath a lion's paw. He stared at Malcolm of Locksley, the man whom he had hated for so long and who had been wounded saving Guy’s life. Never had he fantasized that he would be saved by Malcolm of all men. Guy was relieved that he had forgiven Malcolm; he also regretted that he had been unable to stop Rebecca in time.

“Guy, the battle is over, for now,” Allan told him as he approached him.

Megan stopped beside Guy. “We may continue the evacuation, Guy.”

Guy nodded wordlessly. He cast one last glance at Malcolm, overwhelmed with a blend of grief, guilt, and relief. “I will need to tell Robin something vitally important today.”

“What?” Allan and Megan chorused.

“Rebecca,” Guy spat. “She is Vaisey’s spy, and we must catch her.”

“I saw her here,” Megan informed.

“Me too,” Allan murmured in a pained voice. “She killed this man in cold blood.”

“Yes,” Guy said. He couldn’t tell them that the murdered man was Robin’s father. Pangs of guilt prickled his conscience once more, and he vowed to avenge Malcolm’s death.

§§§

Robin sat on his horse, observing the town of Nottingham in the distance. His mood was not bright in spite of the successful negotiations with Prince John. He was looking at the town’s outer walls, gleaming in the light of the rising sun as if adorned with gold and precious stones. A gust of wind swept across Robin’s face, causing his skin to crawl as the air was cold and seemed charged with the sickening odor of death.

King Richard reached Robin and stopped his horse. “Robin, what are you doing here?”

Robin swung his gaze to his liege. “I am alright, sire.”

Richard let out a sigh. “It will be over soon.”

Robin was quiet for a moment. “Hopefully,” he said at last.

“My liege!” a familiar voice called out to them from behind.

Robin and Richard turned to Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, and Lady Melisende Plantagenet, who were riding towards them. Melisende’s countenance was impassive, but Robert looked worried; they tightened the reins and stopped near the king.

Robert bowed to Richard. “My liege, we have received the news that there is a battle near the eastern gates. We need to send more men to protect the people who are still leaving the town.”

Richard frowned. “John said that he would surrender. Now you say that there is the battle in the town.”

Robin’s heart pounded harder. “What is going on in Nottingham?”

“I don’t think that it is Prince John’s doing,” Robert opined. “Lord Sheridan and Lord Vaisey are trying to ruin our plans. They realized that we managed to enter the town through one of the secret passages.”

Melisende glanced between Richard and Robin. “I don’t think that John betrayed us. I always feel when he is lying and scheming. But when we met John several hours ago, he obviously wanted to cut losses.”

Robin shook his head. “I don’t know what to think. Prince John is fickle and unpredictable, but he wants power beyond measure. He can go to any lengths to become King of England; he is capable of killing everyone who interferes with his plans.”

The king assessed his brother shrewdly, “John is not a fool, although he wants others to think that he is not intelligent, as it gives him a tremendous advantage over his enemies. He knows when to surrender and quickly realizes whether he cannot beat his opponent.”

Melisende veered her gaze to her cousin. “I agree with you, Richard. It is not John’s fault that there is this battle in Nottingham at the moment – it is all Vaisey’s fault.”

“Should I send more men to the town?” Robert asked.

Richard dipped his head in agreement. “Robert, take one hundred knights and go to the eastern gates.” He trailed off, his mind racing back and forth. “Roger de Lacy and Carter of Stretton are now in Nottingham. Help protect the people and join your forces with Roger’s knights and Gisborne’s men.”

Robert bowed in acknowledgment. “As you command, milord.”

Robin broached an important subject, “Sire, I want to go to Nottingham too. I cannot abandon my people.” His voice was taut, his eyes pleading.

The King of England scrutinized Robin’s face; then he sighed heavily. He didn’t want to give Robin this permission, fearing for his half-brother’s safety. Nevertheless, the lion knew that Robin would never forgive him if he wasn’t allowed to go save the people whom Robin had been fighting for. The right decision was to let Robin follow his heart; the king also decided to send someone to protect the young hothead.

“Robin, you can go to Nottingham, but you must be very careful,” Richard conceded after a short pause. His eyes flew to his other favorite. “Robert, protect him for England and for all of us.”

Robert nodded. “I will protect him with my life.”

Robin let out a smile of gratitude. "Thank you, my liege.”

“You are welcome, Robin,” the monarch retorted with a lackluster smile. “I know that I cannot restrain your rebellious nature, and you cannot act differently.”

“Thank you,” Robin echoed his previous words.

The king smiled heartily, his gaze oscillating between Robin and Robert. “I bless fate that I have you, Robin and Robert. I want you both alive and well.”

“England and we all need both of these two brilliant men hale and hearty,” Melisende added, her lips arching in a mischievous foretelling grin.

“I have a plan!” Robin ran his hand through his hair. “Well, half-a-plan.”

Richard smiled knowingly. “What has our conniving little bird invented this time?”

“Tell us, bird,” Robert encouraged, a large grin on his face.

Melisende smiled at Robin. “Always incredible half-plans!”

Robin grinned, his smile rivaling his companions’ smiles. “My lords, my half-a-plan is very simple. I am intending to take many skilled archers whom I myself trained in the private guard. There are not enough archers with Roger and Guy.”

Richard considered Robin’s offer. “Approved,” he uttered at last. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; his eyes flashed with mischief. “Robin, be careful, or I will cut the wings of our little bird.”

“Sire, I will do anything for you,” Robin affirmed sincerely, an impish smile on his handsome features. “I will bow to your authority and allow you to cut my own wings after the siege.”

Soon Robin of Locksley and Robert de Beaumont left the king’s camp and were leading the soldiers to Nottingham. Getting closer to Nottingham, they heard the battle sounds and hurried to come to the aid of their comrades. As they reached the eastern gates, they realized that the battle was ferocious; they saw the people panicking, although Guy of Gisborne and Roger de Tosny were trying to calm them. De Lacy’s men were fighting against the Black Knights, and, in a few moments, more of the king’s men joined them.

Robin, Robert, and other Richard’s knights entered Nottingham through the gates as the evacuation had been stopped by the battle. Robin examined the area and blew out a sigh of relief that the crowd of people was surrounded by many knights; he silently praised Guy for organizing the protection of them. A festering hatred surged through Robin as his gaze slid to Sheridan whom he spotted on a street overlooking the gates.

“Robert, we must act quickly,” Robin told his friend.

Robert inclined his head in agreement. “Indeed.”

Robin exchanged brief glances with Robert and nodded at his friend as they coordinated a course of action. Then Robin raised his hand and motioned his archers to position themselves near the gates and the walls, preparing for an archery barrage. They needed to secure these gates for the king and his troops and for the people whom they still had to evacuate to nearby villages.

"Fire!" Robin roared to his archers as he stopped his horse. “Fire!”

"For King Richard! For England!" Robert shouted.

Robin removed a quiver of arrows from his back. “For King Richard! For justice!” he proclaimed as he drew back the bowstring and let an arrow fly. As he took two arrows from Lionel, a young man from Aquitaine whom he had hired as his squire in Acre, Robin’s heart tightened in his chest at the thought that it was usually Much’s task to give him arrows in battles. Taking a deep breath, he conquered his emotions and released a hail of arrows that all hit their marks. Lionel raised a large shield up to protect Robin.

“Robin Hood! This is Hood!” Vaisey’s furious screams resonated in the air. He had briefly left the battlefield to meet with Rebecca, but then he had returned to Sheridan and his army.

“Vaisey, I will deal with you! You will never get rid of me!” Robin shouted menacingly. He targeted one of the sheriff’s archers and fired; the man howled with pain and fell dead.

Robin turned his head, and his gaze fell on Guy, Allan, and Megan fighting not far from the gates. He saw several enemies attacking Megan and Guy from all sides, making them retreat closer to the gates; Roger de Tosny attempted to reach them, but there were too many enemies around, and he couldn’t. Robin immediately fired three more arrows, and more Black Knights tumbled to the ground dead. Robin released more arrows, and several enemies ducked, only to be pinned down by deadly missiles.

Guy gave Robin a nod of gratitude. “Thank you, Robin.”

“You are welcome,” Robin answered automatically; he shot arrow after arrow.

Robin took an arrow from his squire and then aimed at the sheriff who was hiding behind the shield which Blamire was holding before his master. However, Robin’s eyes shifted towards Malcolm’s corpse, and all the blood drained from his features as his eyes fastened on the sword driven into Malcolm’s chest. His heart was somersaulting in the throes of excruciating grief that was washing over him in waves. Robin tore his gaze from his father’s body and glanced at Guy; he was surprised to see the apology and compassion in Guy’s solemn eyes. He lowered his bow as his despondency weighed his shoulders and his head down.

“Father,” Robin whispered in a voice edged with pain.

“Robin, look out!” Robert warned as he released an arrow at the archer who targeted the hero. It hit the man in the chest, and he fell dead.

Robin looked at Robert and nodded in gratitude. “Thank you.” Forcing himself to concentrate, he swiftly pulled the bowstring back and quickly released an arrow.

“It is not over, Hood!” the sheriff threatened. “Don’t underestimate me!”

“Vaisey, it is your last day!” Robin bellowed as he shot an arrow at a knight who sat on his horse next to Vaisey. “Today you will pay for all your crimes!”

“Don't count your chickens before they are hatched!” Vaisey yelled. His features evolved into seriousness while a nefarious smile curved his lips; he had another trap, but Robin didn’t know about it.

Robin shot an arrow that struck one of the Black Knights in the neck with deadly accuracy; the killed man slipped from his horse to the pavement, and in the next instant, Sheridan ordered to retreat. Smiling morbidly, Robin requested that his squire hand him more arrows. As he continued shooting, his gaze was vacant and his movements automatic. The hoarse shouts of friend and enemy, the piteous moans of the wounded and dying, the loud clang of swords and the low hum of bowstrings – they all became a promise of further bloodbath and a breath of death that was lurking in the darkness, crawling closer.

“Retreat! Retreat!” Sheridan roared in a voice of barely controlled fury.

The escape of the sheriff’s mercenaries and the Black Knights was hindered by the Lionheart’s soldiers who launched an offensive to kill all these traitors. The king’s archers were firing volleys of arrows, dropping their foes before they could reach the end of the street. Sheridan was commanding to retreat over and over again, but arrows were slamming into their necks, skulls, chests, and flanks.

Robin guided his horse towards the panicking mob, intending to assess the damage caused by the attack. A cloud of arrows was collapsing down on the fleeing traitors, and he smiled grimly. Robin sighed with relief as he saw that the people were unharmed, although he noticed that some of them were wounded and several dead. Robin was overflowing with contrition at the thought that some innocents had been killed despite their collaborative efforts to save the people; yet, he was satisfied that the loss wasn’t great.

As the people noticed Robin, the crowd broke into broad smiles and welcoming cheers, for everyone was happy to see Robin Hood in Nottingham. Robin recognized some familiar villagers of Locksley and smiled at them, listening to their murmurs of excitement. Loud cries of joy and merry laughter permeated the air.

“Look at the legend! This is Robin Hood!”

“This is Lord Robin! He returned home!”

“Robin Hood is alive! He returned to us!”

“Master Robin is here! He is alive and back home!”

Robin dropped the reins but remained in the saddle. He roamed his eyes over the happy crowd. “The people of Nottingham, it is a very important and long-awaited day for all of us,” he began, his expression evolving into feigned cheerfulness. “Today we are welcoming the rightful King of England in our town. Our beloved King Richard was released from captivity and returned to England to restore justice and punish traitors!” He paused briefly. “The king’s troops will enter the town at midday. We will crush tyranny and oppression in Nottingham! We will win whatever it takes!”

In a booming voice, Robert de Beaumont declared, “Long live King Richard!”

“Long live King Richard! God bless and save the king!” Robin proclaimed in most exhilarated tones, pretending that he was alright; his mind drifted back to Malcolm’s corpse he had seen a few minutes ago.

A great roar went up from the crowd as they cheered King Richard and cursed Vaisey.

"Long live Robin Hood!" a peasant from Locksley screamed.

 “Long reign our king!” Megan cried out, her heart beating faster in euphoria.

Guy, Archer, and Allan echoed the cries, but their expressions were guarded.  The clamor of cheers and cries erupted as the people glorified King Richard and Robin Hood.

Robin smiled feebly, but his mood was melancholic. His liege’s return really meant a lot for England and the people because King Richard and Robin Hood were symbols of hope for a better life. He always proclaimed that he was fighting for King Richard while making passionate speeches in front of the poor and downtrodden. Nevertheless, Robin knew perfectly well that he had promised the population utopia, and they believed him, and he couldn’t destroy their hopes for a brighter, safer, and more prosperous future.

Robin rode away from the jubilant crowd; the only thing he wanted at this moment was to have a farewell with his father. He dismounted and walked to where he had discovered Malcolm. He stood rooted to the spot by shock and heartache, his heart hammering wildly. He noticed the arrow in his father’s chest, and then his gaze focused on the sword driven into Malcolm’s chest. Questions were whirling through his head like a tornado: why had his father been shot and stabbed, and who was the culprit?

When Guy stopped beside him, Robin turned to the other man. "What happened to my father?"

Guy sighed heavily. “Lord Malcolm saved my life by shielding me from the arrow that would have surely killed me if not for his brave action. He was alive for some time.” He trailed off and sighed grievously. His guilt was written over his countenance, and he continued, “Then Rebecca appeared, and I realized that she is Vaisey’s spy; I don’t know how he managed to buy her and contacted her. Unfortunately, I was attacked and distracted, and, therefore, I was unable to save your father when Rebecca–“ He abruptly broke off.

“Tell me everything,” Robin demanded.

After a moment, Guy mustered his composure. “Rebecca stabbed a wounded Lord Malcolm in the chest.”

A shocked Robin gasped in horror, his jaw dropping. He was silent for a moment, his expression distant. “I can believe that Rebecca is Vaisey’s spy. We can find an explanation why she colluded with this monster; she might have wanted to earn some money for her family. But why did she need to murder my father?”

Guy repeated what Malcolm had asked him to tell Robin who listened breathlessly, his gaze glued to his father. Finally, Guy began to speak about Rebecca and recounted the events that followed her appearance. Robin blanched like a painting with color yet to be added, his face reflecting his indescribable horror.

Robin was petrified with dread, and a severe shock penetrated his bones. He felt as if the whole world were splitting apart, his very soul being torn from him. Gathering his inner strength, almost against his own will, he struggled to believe that Rebecca of Locksley was Malcolm’s spurned lover and Kate was his sister. Malcolm of Locksley was a man of dissipation and self-disgrace, and he was presumed dead for years, his life obscured by mists of time. It dawned upon Robin once more that he hadn’t known his father as a son knows his parent, and the knowledge he had was insufficient. The unveiling of Malcolm’s secrets – if Rebecca’s words were really true – was turning his life upside down.

“Robin?” Guy called him as he regarded the younger man anxiously.

Robin sighed so deeply that his shoulders rose and fell with it. “At least my father died a hero’s death as he saved you from that arrow,” he uttered after a long pause.

Guy’s heart ached with sympathy for his former foe. “Lord Malcolm is at peace.”

Robin took a step to the lifeless body of his father. Tears pooled in his eyes, and he blinked them away, not wishing Guy and others to see them. He crouched and leaned over his father, then shifted the hood from Malcolm’s scarred and wrinkled face. Robin couldn’t help but notice that his father’s visage was peaceful and serene, and a smile was frozen on his lips, as if at last the unfortunate earl who had lived in the shadows for years knew the answers to all the great secrets of life. Malcolm’s countenance was a dusty pale color, but it was also a true picture of his soul that was finally released from all earthly bonds and permitted to enter heaven. Death was the end of Malcolm’s long struggle with his inner self and the outside world, the way to feel a soft and cleansing touch of God's hand; it was probably the best thing that could happen to Malcolm. Robin grasped the meaning of his father’s last smile, and his vision of the truth grew so intense that a sense of stillness and peace inundated his whole being.

Robin climbed to his feet and gazed at Guy. In a doleful voice, he stated, “I loved my father, even though I didn’t tell him that when we last met.” There was a tremble in his voice. “I forgave him for leaving me.”

Guy sent him a smile of understanding. “I forgave him too.”

“I am glad,” Robin replied quietly.

In a few moments, Archer appeared, staring in shocked disbelief at the corpse. “I am sorry, but I cannot mourn for Malcolm. I have never respected him, even if he loved me as he said,” he asserted dispassionately after Guy had told him Malcolm’s last words.

Robin stared at Archer, his gaze cold. "Archer, your contempt is insulting to the memory of our father. He did many wrong things, but he paid for his mistakes a high price.”

Archer flung his arms up in frustration. “I cannot forgive him for what he did to me!”

"You should learn to forgive others, Archer. Don’t harbor negative feelings about the past," Robin stated in a voice layered with wisdom and intelligence. “Don’t hold grudges because if you fail to do that, you will be unhappy and unsatisfied.”

Archer blinked. “It is not easy.” He knew that Robin was right.

“Try, brother,” Robin recommended.

Archer promised, “I will, Robin.”

 “Good.” Robin cast the last glance at his father; then he ran his eyes along the street filled with corpses. “Please take father’s body to safety. We will bury him in the Locksley graveyard after the siege.”

Guy spoke compassionately. “Don’t worry, Robin. Go and do what you must.”

Robin smiled listlessly. “Keep his identity a secret,” he demanded; Guy and Archer nodded their assent.

Robin Hood swiveled and stalked towards Robert de Beaumont who was waiting for him. His task was to join King Richard and his cortege who were slowly advancing towards Nottingham, planning to enter the town and finish the siege. Standing near the gates, Robin was looking into the misty distance, and a heavy, brooding silence filled the whole town, together with a sense of infinity of woes.

§§§

The evacuation of the civilians was finished on schedule. King Richard and his troops entered Nottingham through the eastern gates at midday. The long procession was moving slowly through the main street towards the center. Squads of guards lined both sides of the road; some bore drawn swords, others held spears; all had raised their shields and were ready to protect their liege from a potential attack.

Robin’s heart was bleeding, and his mind was in turmoil. The black veil of grief over his father’s death and the revelation of Malcolm’s affair with Rebecca precluded any joy or gratification which he might have experienced in the moment of their entrée into Nottingham. He begged God to restore his father’s life, but the inner pitiless voice in his head whispered to him that he was lost in a dream.

As soon as Robin saw King Richard on his white stallion, he spurred on his horse, like lightning to the destined goal, and rode towards his liege; Robert de Beaumont and Carter of Stretton followed Robin. Roger de Lacy and a squad of his heavily armed knights had already departed to the center in order to ensure the safety of the king’s cortege. Guy, Megan, Archer, and Allan had joined the procession as well and rode behind all others. Robin also spotted Will, Djaq, and Little John in the procession.

Robin’s features split into a grin as he looked at Melisende who was riding next to King Richard, her face regally cold and singularly beautiful, shining with a wonderful, yet strange, spiritual glow. Appareled in a gorgeous purple and gold warm cloak embroidered with jewelry and gold braid, Melisende was a ravishing creature who took Robin’s breath away and stirred desire in him, not the simple physical need, but possessiveness, too, along with a shadowy feeling of something unknown and inevitable.

As his gaze locked with hers, Melisende flashed a bright smile at her husband. Robin smiled back at her while inwardly sighing and shuddering as he discerned not only love and passion in her eyes but also a portentous, palatable fatality which he had never seen before. Her gorgeous violet eyes were shining with devotion for him, but it seemed that her passion for life morphed into a melancholic resignation at the necessity, perhaps, to die for peace today. Robin beheld his wife with surprise mingled with wonder. There was something unusual in Melisende’s appearance and demeanor today, but he couldn’t fathom why he thought so, or maybe he misconstrued something.

His best instincts forewarned him about possible danger from Vaisey and Rebecca, and that thought was weighing him down. Staring into his wife’s face, Robin suddenly envisaged her features being strangely white, as if all the blood had left her cheeks, just for an instant, before the vision was faded, and he could see her smile again. A prickle of something akin to a disquieting apprehension crept up Robin’s spine.

He broke eye contact and directed his gaze at Marian who rode behind his wife and Richard, to his utter surprise. Obviously, after getting the news about the success of Melisende’s negotiations with Prince John and his willing surrender, the king had permitted Marian to accompany them to Nottingham as part of the royal cortege.

His heart hammering harder, Robin quickly perused Marian: she looked very lovely in her fashionable blue winter cloak embroidered with silver braid, and her face was reserved and guarded, not a trace of discontent upon her countenance, her cheeks slightly red from the cold. As their eyes met, he was amazed by Marian’s tranquil gaze that reflected her good nature and also exuded her courage and her inner strength, which always impressed him. All of a sudden, Robin shuddered inwardly as he distinguished or, perhaps, imagined that Marian’s face was imbued with a divine aura, as if she had been chosen by the Lord for some sacred mission today.

A clearly embarrassed Robin shifted his gaze from Marian, silently berating himself for looking at her for longer than appropriate. He was a married man and had no right to think of his former betrothed; yet, he couldn’t forget the many gladsome and at the same time, heartbreaking moments they had spent together. Melisende and Marian were two different women, but they could both make him surrender to their charms. Not for the first time, Robin wondered what he was really feeling for these two ladies, his brain racked by the rhythm of some tormenting music which his guilty heart was singing in his chest.

Robin’s emotions were tangled like vines in ancient Sherwood; he attempted to distil his feelings down to one emotion, and, for the first time in many months, he didn’t fail. His mind was drawing a canvas of comprehension: Marian and he always shared common values, had similar ideals, and fought for the same cause, and it dawned upon him, unexpectedly, that he didn’t know for certain whether Melisende believed in his fight for justice and freedom. Marian and Melisende both had many facets to their personalities, but the nobility of their hearts and minds was the most prominent and beautiful part of their characters. Yet, only one of these two women – Melisende – understood his foibles and faults completely and gave him what he needed emotionally, rather than what she would need, while Marian often acted in a different way.

It occurred to Robin that Melisende had appeared to him so unquestionably of the right sort to have a second chance at happiness that he hadn’t hesitated to marry her two years ago out of his loyalty to King Richard, and then, hadn’t dithered to declare himself in love with her after his return from Acre. Under the cover of that poetical fiction about his second love, _Robin found a great deal of understanding and a lot of love that, however, was not based on shared values_. He desired Melisende madly, for various reasons: for her stunning beauty, for her immense intelligence, for her ability to make him feel easy and happy, and just for the utter satisfaction of having her as his wife. The feeling Robin really experienced was the love of all the good and beautiful things which Melisende allowed him to see in her, but her personality was much more complex no doubt, and he just didn’t know her as well as he knew Marian.

King Richard’s booming voice startled Robin out of his reverie. “Finally, I will take over Nottingham, the last stronghold in England which is not controlled by me yet, the only rightful ruler of this land!”

Unlike the king, Robin was thinking about the townspeople. “We did the right thing when we evacuated nearly the whole city,” he opined as he reached the king and tightened the reins, guiding his horse to ride beside the lion. “Anything might happen in the center. Vaisey might use the people as a living shield.”

Richard proclaimed in most overweening tones and with certitude, “We are not cowards and will easily defeat the Black Knights! They will run away like a herd of cattle!”

A frustrated Robin arched a brow, surprised by the king’s optimism. “My liege, Vaisey will definitely try to snare us into a trap!”

The lion guffawed heartily. “Be at ease, Robin! My huge army is at Vaisey’s doorstep, and John has surrendered! We are well protected, and the town is almost in our hands!”

Everyone was relieved that they hadn’t encountered any troubles yet, but Robin wasn’t calm at all, struggling to control his growing anxiety and maintain the neutral façade of a glorious war general favored by the King of England, although inside his nerves were quivering. His vigilant eyes scanned his surroundings, keeping alert and trying to protect them from potential perils. Alarming stillness reigned all around, broken only by the sound of hooves sloshing through the snowy mud.

When they reached the central square, Robin’s agitated heart pounded harder as his gaze fell on Prince John and Lady Isabella of Gisborne who both stood near the entrance to the castle. Dressed in luxurious fur mantles, John and Isabella were surrounded by Sir Gerard de Camville and several Black Knights, Norman nobles who had signed the Pact of Caen but not the Pact of Nottingham. It seemed that John was really going to surrender and give the keys from the town to his brother, the rightful King of England.

It was an auspicious start, and a satisfied King Richard laughed. “Finally, my dear brother John has realized that he lost the battle for the throne!” he claimed with conviction. “Even his Norman friends are capitulating!” His features then hardened into a fierce scowl. “I cannot execute John, and I don’t want to kill my own brother. Nevertheless, I will not be merciful to others. Those nobles who signed the Pact of Nottingham and are still alive will be executed on the charge of high treason.”

Robin released a sigh. “Escape the bear and fall to the lion, milord. We haven’t captured Vaisey yet."

“I know when John is lying, but it is not so now,” Melisende opined. A strange, sickening sensation stole over her: she was absolutely sure that Prince John was going to surrender, but extreme nervousness was creeping over her.

“Well, I believe you, Melisende.” Robin sighed audibly, like a man with too many burdens to bear. “I hope Vaisey will not appear here.” He looked back for a moment, and his gaze briefly locked with Marian’s; he deciphered anxiety in her sapphire blue eyes.

Marian lowered her eyes to avoid Robin’s intensive gaze. Her demeanor was quiet but strong, and she was buffeted by the same worry as well. “Vaisey can do anything,” she drawled.

“Roger de Lacy sent our men to infiltrate the castle,” Robert de Beaumont reported.

“Excellent!” the king cried out, noticeably pleased.

King Richard dismounted and stood leaning against his horse, his scrupulous eyes focused on Prince John who was sauntering towards him. Richard’s blue eyes turned a shade darker as anger coursed through him like a river of lava when his gaze lingered on Isabella who was walking at John’s right; he didn’t forget that she had colluded with Vaisey in Acre. Prince John’s friends, several Norman Black Knights, strode towards the Lionheart, preparing to beseech the king to grant them a royal pardon and a chance to prove their fealty. Melisende, Robin, Robert, and Marian stood behind Richard, watching the surrender of the usurper and his mistress, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

Prince John was overwhelmed with a blend of conflicted emotions – hatred, loathing, ire, and relief. It was one of the most humiliating moments in John’s whole life: never had he imagined that he would have to surrender to his elder brother, whom he fiercely hated, in order to save his life from Vaisey. Yet, he wasn’t a fool and knew that Richard would never send him to the gallows, and he could cut losses without depriving himself of the chance to become king, for Richard had agreed to his terms of capitulation.

John stepped forward, closer to Richard, his features inscrutable; yet, his eyes were full of resentment. Isabella of Gisborne and the Black Knights stopped respectful several paces behind Prince John.

Prince John dropped to one knee, his head bowed. “My liege, I have come to offer you the keys from Nottingham.” Although he played the role of a repentant brother very well, inside he was seething with a murderous rage. “I beg you for forgiveness! I hope to secure your pardon and count on your benevolence!”

King Richard inclined his head in acceptance of his brother’s surrender. A tiny smile of satisfaction was hovering over his lips, for he was relishing the moment of the other man’s submission. Richard regarded John scornfully, wondering whether his younger brother really wished him dead so much that he had attempted so stubbornly to get rid of him in all possible ways. Despite all of his crimes, Richard didn’t hate John and didn’t want him dead, although he despised the prince’s treacherous soul.

“Rise, John,” Richard permitted in Norman-French after a long pause. “Rise, everyone.”

John rose to his feet and stood straight, looking at the king. Everyone followed suit.

“My liege,” Prince John managed to say after a tense pause, in Norman-French, working to keep his voice even. “We are all delighted to see you, our most beloved and blessed sovereign, alive and healthy in England. Please accept our most sincere congratulations on your release from captivity and return home.” Pausing, he added in a voice dripping with sarcasm, “We also offer you our congratulations on the successful end of your glorious Crusade.”

A displeased Richard frowned as his brother had rubbed him the wrong way: he had a sour feeling when he thought about the Crusade as he had failed to capture the holy city. He responded flatly, “We are glad to see you too. Are ready to submit yourself to the just will of God and of your sovereign?”

John swallowed hard. “Yes, I am surrendering to you,” he forced the words to come out.

The king raised a brow in expectation. “Give us the keys.”

Prince John took a step forward and handed the keys to King Richard. As their eyes locked, Richard’s eyes turned deep blue, like a stormy sea, an undeniable sign of raging emotions which were brewing inside him. The prince blanched to the whiteness of snow, and hurriedly averted his gaze, taking a step back.

“Cousin, I am glad to see you,” Melisende said with a slow, entrancing smile.

Schooling his features into feigned neutrality, John looked between Melisende and Robin. Sneering, he proclaimed sardonically, “Welcome to Nottingham, the king of peasants and Hero of Acre!” he hurled an insult at Robin. As his gaze slid to Marian, he sniggered. “What a meeting, Lady Marian! Robin Hood’s former sweetheart is here! It seems that everyone has gathered in the wilds of Nottinghamshire!”

Robin let out a morbid sigh. He didn’t comprehend how anyone could hate his own brother as ferociously as John hated Richard and him. He didn’t know how his relations with John would develop in the future, for he didn’t forget that the prince had almost murdered him in the White Tower. Queen Eleanor and King Richard had promised him that they would solve the problem with John, and that he shouldn’t worry at all; yet, Robin didn’t think that they would succeed as John’s hatred for him ran too deep.

“You said enough, John,” the Lionheart barked, his eyes flashing with disdain. “It must be difficult for you to plead with me to pardon you.” He paused, letting the words echo through the courtyard. “But now we are all happy as I returned despite the fact that my own brother attempted to kill me many times.”

John snarled in indignation. “Are you enjoying your triumph over me, Richard? You have always loved humiliating me! You want me, your own brother, dead!”

Richard’s expression softened for a split second; then it evolved into harshness mingled with contempt. "John, you don’t know me at all if you say such things. Unlike you, I don’t wish you dead.”

Melisende watched and heard Richard and John exchange more taunts. She was awash in relief when eventually Richard reluctantly embraced John in reconciliation. She smiled at her two cousins; her heart was so filled with love that she felt it would surely burst. She was an intelligent woman who saw life in dark and real colors, beyond widespread delusions of everlasting love and happiness, beyond conventions and prejudices, but now she coveted so much to believe that her future life with Robin would be effervescing with joy and love. A soul-stirring question circled Melisende’s mind: could that be true that she and Robin would raise their family and grow old together, and then would live happily in heaven?

The exquisite serenity in Melisende’s heart became more vibrant and more profound when her eyes met Robin’s. She sent her husband a slow, breathtaking smile that was as brilliant as a silver moon on a clear night. Robin took her hand in his and smiled back at her with a scintillating smile, and she was suddenly astounded as a sense of premonition shadowed her bright visage. Inexplicably, Melisende sensed an unknown peril for her future with Robin; an imminent danger that was somehow connected with the siege of Nottingham. She pushed aside her increasingly ominous feelings, telling herself sternly that these unsettling emotions were simply because she was thinking too much.

Melisende lifted her eyes to the sky that was gray and chill, and the sun peeped out from behind the leaden clouds. Suddenly, sheer horror painted itself all over her countenance. “Robin! Richard! John!” she shouted warningly, her voice filled with panic and fear. She was the first one who saw two javelins flying down from the tower, in the direction of her two cousins whom she loved dearly.

Her heart thumping and her senses screaming in alarm, Melisende bravely rushed forward and pushed Prince John out of the way at the very last moment before the first javelin flashed silver in the air and landed on the ground without injuring anyone. As he saw the second javelin flying exactly at King Richard, Robin jumped forward and shielded the king from the danger. In the space of a heartbeat, Melisende instinctively stepped ahead of Robin, shielding both Robin and Richard from the swiftly approaching death.

Now Richard, Robin, and Melisende stood almost in the same line; John lay on the ground. A sudden cry of pain pierced the morning air, alerting everyone to the inevitable tragedy. Richard, Robin, and John were unharmed, while Melisende tumbled to the ground, a javelin protruding out of her abdomen.

An injured Melisende blinked in amazement as she looked down at the javelin driven into her. Her mantle didn’t protect her from the murderous penetration of steel, but it prevented her from being completely run through with the sharp blade. As a searing pain shot through her body, she moaned, “My Lord...” Her heart thundered in her chest in a futile attempt to cling to life. She felt her own hot, sticky blood flowing out of the wound. “It is over for me,” she murmured to herself. A veil of sadness was diffused on her face at the realization that she wouldn’t have a happy future with Robin.

An intense, pulsing, and sinister silence ensued. King Richard, Prince John, and Robin Hood stood rooted, petrified with dread and too shocked to speak.

“Melisende! Melisende!” Robin cried out in a voice colored with abysmal despair.

“My God,” the king gasped, his eyes fixed on the wounded Melisende. He rushed to her at a breakneck speed and knelt by her side.

The prince looked horrified as reality sank in. “No!” he shrilled.

“The king’s cousin…” Guy muttered, shaking his head in shocked disbelief.

Marian and Megan stood rooted by horror to the spot; their faces were almost ashen, as if they were contemplating the fateful end of an era. “No,” they chorused.

“Holy Mother of God!” Archer cried out.

Allan put a hand on his mouth. “Blimey,” was all that he was able to say.

Isabella moved away from Prince John. The image of a dying Robin with the scimitar driven in his stomach resurfaced in her mind, and her heart prickled with guilt. Her cheeks were streaked with tears as her eyes met Guy’s. “I don’t think she will live,” she told Guy who coincidentally stood nearby.

Guy turned to his sister; he was surprised to see her so close. “I doubt God will save her life, like He spared Robin’s.”

“Yes,” Isabella said, tears welling up in her eyes.

A tenebrous stillness reigned in the courtyard; not a breath stirred, not a man moved, as if they were in a state of torpor. Djaq, Will, and Little John were all staring at the injured Melisende in consternation. Fright marked the faces of Robert, Roger, Carter, and all of the king’s men.

“Damn you to hell! Damn you!” Lord Walter Sheridan bellowed savagely, the diabolic sound descending upon the courtyard like an anathema. Vaisey and he had invented such a seemingly perfect stratagem: they had gone to the tower room in the castle and had thrown javelins from there to kill Richard and John, thinking that they would catch them off guard and effectively dispatch the two royal men. But they failed in the most miserable way: one of their javelins had stabbed only Melisende Plantagenet.

“We are checkmated,” Vaisey grouched; he clenched his fists in rage.

“I threw these javelins with great accuracy,” Sheridan defended himself.

Vaisey’s high, baleful voice boomed through the courtyard, and it seemed that at the very sound of his voice, the earth would rumble and shake. “La di da di da! This is not as awesome as I wanted, but it is still a fine royal bloodbath! We have killed the king’s beloved cousin by chance!” He hadn’t succeeded in eliminating Robin who had thwarted all of his plans to annihilate the Lionheart, but at least he had taken his revenge on the hero, he thought spitefully.

Sheridan scanned on the square and the people who gathered near the fallen Melisende, assessing the situation carefully. “Lady Melisende will die! It is a mortal wound!” He didn’t pity her and anyone related to the Plantagenets.

Leaning down from the battlements and looking down at the hero of the poor and downtrodden, Vaisey laughed malignantly and screeched, “Robin Hood! This is my _farewell gift_ for you, my dearest friend! I warned you that it is not over!”

The Earl of Spenser approached Vaisey and Sheridan. He asked uneasily, “What now?”

“We failed,” the Earl of Durham grunted.

Spenser and Durham were two of the few surviving Black Knights who hadn’t taken King Richard’s side.

“We need to go,” Sheridan prompted.

Vaisey huffed in exasperation. “We have to escape! We have little time left!”

At the same time, the congregation of the people in the courtyard had gotten over the shock. King Richard requested that Djaq go examine his cousin.

“Vaisey,” Guy hissed under his breath, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He searched for the source of the sheriff’s voice. He glanced up, at the battlements of the tower where he had once fought with Vaisey.

As his arms engulfed his wife, Robin called to her in a broken voice, “Melisende!”

“Find these traitors! Capture them alive!” the Earl of Leicester roared.

“Alive! We want them alive!” King Richard ordered in a hissing voice. His eyes narrowed to slits; his face was white with rage. “They will pay for all their crimes!”

Prince John awkwardly climbed to his feet and staggered towards his brother. In an urgent, cracking voice, he burst out, “Richard, I swear I didn’t know that Sheridan and Vaisey would try to kill you! I willingly surrendered the town to you without Vaisey’s knowledge! The sheriff really took me hostage!” He had to defend himself to avoid being accused of another assassination attempt on the king’s life.

Richard’s gaze was piercing his vile brother’s soul. He could see that John had told him the truth. “I know, John,” he assured the prince. “This time, it is not your fault.”

“I would have never harmed Melisende,” John emphasized. “It is only Vaisey’s fault! I didn’t know that this madman would attempt to get rid of you, Richard, and of me too.”

The king’s mouth twisted as fury boiled in his veins at the thought that John’s nefarious intrigues had led to such a great tragedy. “John, your attempt to locate the golden boy, as our mother calls Robin, eventually trapped you. Vaisey started blackmailing you with this secret as he had to make himself useful to you after Robin’s return.” He gritted his teeth and forced back his growing ire. He ground out, “You got what your vile plots merited! But Melisende didn’t deserve to become a victim of your treacherous gang!”

John gave Richard a fulminating glare. “You have been keeping this secret from everyone for so long.”

Richard rolled his eyes in aggravation; John’s jealousy of him protecting the queen’s secret was ridiculous and disgusting. “You will keep this secret too because your future kingship depends on it.”

John was tempering his anger. “I will,” he croaked.

§§§

A presageful hush fell over the courtyard. The Plantagenet brothers watched Robin holding Melisende in his arms, blood dripping on the snow. Richard and John both loved their cousin, and a feeling of chasmal grief was clawing at their hearts. All eyes glued to the king’s cousin, their emotions alternating between disbelief, shock, and sorrow. Those who had witnessed the scene of Robin’s death in Imuiz wondered whether a new miracle would happen today, but, this time, to Melisende, Robin Hood’s wife.

Robin cradled his wife’s head in his hands. Eyes dark with pain, lips parted in plea, soft and gentle; right now, her survival was all that he desired now. “Please, open your eyes!” he entreated.

Melisende gasped, and her violet eyes flung open. The apparent tension of her facial muscles betrayed the agony she was enduring. “Are you unscratched, Robin?” she inquired, her visage ghostly pale.

“I am alright, my love,” he answered, looking into her eyes with love and despair. “Richard and John are also unharmed. You saved the three of us.”

Robin’s gaze flitted to Djaq who stood nearby. “Djaq, what can you do?”

“So?” Melisende’s voice was trembling but clear.

Djaq shook her head regrettably. The tragic downpour of the truth came crashing upon Robin like waves of a tempestuous ocean – his wife was dying. A distressed Robin lowered his head, his eyes watering with unshed tears; he didn’t want to bid farewell to Melisende.

“I am sorry, Robin,” Djaq murmured apologetically; then she stepped aside.

Melisende raised her hand and cupped Robin’s cheek, prompting him to look at her. She wasn’t crying; instead, there was a smile of holy beauty on her face, and her eyes were glowing mystically. “Robin, it is my fate, and I gladly accept it. I am having a glorious death for England, for my family, and for you, my love.”

Robin blinked the tears from his eyes. “I cannot lose you. I need you so much.”

She caressed his cheek with her thumb. “I don’t want to leave you, but I must.”

“No,” he uttered hoarsely. "Forgive me if I have ever caused you pain. Forgive me if I have ever disappointed you. Forgive me for not deserving your love.”

"Shhh," she breathed, and tears came to her eyes. “I would have done anything for you because I love you more than life itself.” She lapsed into silence as a tide of pain passed through her. In a voice in which love and devotion spoke together in innate tenderness, she whispered, “You are the love of my life, Robin.”

“I love you too,” Robin said sincerely, tears shimmering in his eyes.

“I know, my love, my handsome hero.” She sighed, barely repressing a moan.

Richard and John stood a small distance, staring in horror at the javelin protruding out of their cousin’s abdomen, crimson blood seeping onto the snowy ground.

"God, not Melisende!” Prince John exclaimed in a fit of grief. “We have to save her!”

Looking at Djaq whom he trusted after she had tended to his wound in Acre and saved Robin’s life, King Richard guessed that Melisende’s wound was fatal. Yet, he had to know for sure, and he mustered the courage to ask. “Can we do something for her?”

“Miracles are not my forte, sire,” Djaq replied bitterly.

“I understand,” a resigned Richard responded.

“But Huntingdon had a similar wound,” John countered.

Djaq heaved a sigh. "Robin survived two almost fatal wounds: the wound in the Saracen attack from Gisborne’s blade and the one in Imuiz inflicted on him by Vaisey. Perhaps, that means something.”

The prince raised his brows in mock surprise. “What are you implying?”

Djaq glanced between Richard and John; the king’s nod encouraged her to continue. “I believe that Robin has his own destiny, and divine providence keeps him alive.”

John measured Djaq with a skeptical look. “You think so, Saracen woman?”

“Yes, I do.” Djaq shuffled her feet in discomfort under the prince’s unpleasant stare.

“I agree,” Richard assented with confidence.

Djaq smiled deplorably. “Allah defends Robin, but he is not immortal and cannot cheat death forever. Unfortunately, at times… something is taken away from God-blessed people as repayment for their survival.” She believed that Robin Hood had a divine fate, but she also knew that the God she worshiped sometimes demands recompense for his gifts.

The king’s brows drew together, his expression perplexed before turning blank. “Do you mean that Melisende’s life is taken… in exchange for my, John, and Robin’s lives?"

“For Robin’s life,” Djaq clarified. “And for peace in England too.”

Richard nodded wordlessly, more inclined to believe Djaq’s words than to reject a certain amount of truth in them. John looked skeptical, thinking that the Saracen had said nonsense. They then turned their heads to Robin and his dying spouse. There was a deathlike stillness in the courtyard, like in a tomb.

Melisende winced as she tried to move her body, and a sharp, unbearable pain pierced her whole essence. As the pain receded a bit, she requested, “Robin, I want to talk with Richard and John in private.”

“Of course, my love.” Robin stood up and strode towards Richard and John, giving them a nod.

King Richard knelt by Melisende. He gazed into her strikingly violet eyes, the naked emotions of anguish and affection dancing across his features. “My dear, I am so sorry that I failed to protect you.”

“Melisende, I... am sorry too,” Prince John began as he knelt by his cousin.

“I did what I wanted and needed to do,” Melisende murmured in a weak voice. She glanced at John and addressed him, “John, enough people died because of desire to be king. You must make peace with Richard.”

John stiffened. “Melisende, it is neither time nor place to talk about that.”

Melisende shook her head. “It is high time to talk. The Black Knights attempted regicide many times. Robin almost died twice because of your ambitions, John.”

Prince John scowled. "Melisende, I don’t wish to discuss that. We have to–”

Melisende cut John off sharply. “John, I sacrificed myself for you. I have the right to speak to you.”

Richard dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Too many people died due to the plots of the Black Knights.”

Unexpectedly for himself, John felt ashamed. He didn’t wish Melisende dead and really loved his cousin; she was one of the few relatives who treated him with a genuine affection. “Cousin, I am immeasurably grateful for your sacrifice.”

Melisende glanced into the prince’s eyes. “John, I know that you… don’t like Robin, but I believe that you can reconcile with him.”

“My dear, tell us what you want,” Richard said softly, stroking her red-gold hair.

She smiled at Richard. “This is about Robin.” She swung her gaze to John. “John, you owe me your life. You must repay your debt: promise me that you will never order anyone to kill Robin and that you will never do this blasphemous deed yourself.”

The prince glowered at her. “Melisende, this is difficult.”

“One day, you will become King of England, John. You will need honest subjects whose allegiance cannot be bought,” she affirmed, appealing to John’s practical side. “Robin is utterly loyal to England, and you will need more people like him.”

The tense lines of John’s face relaxed. “I… know that Robin Hood loves England.”

Melisende continued, “My Robin will always be loyal to England and his liege, regardless of who the king is. Richard, Robin’s son, has a Plantagenet blood in his veins. Robin will never do anything to put our son’s life in jeopardy and to deprive him of his rightful inheritance; he will never rebel against you again, John.”

Richard took Melisende’s hand in his own, entwining their fingers. He stared at his beloved cousin with open admiration. Pain tugged at his heart at the thought that she was so close to death; yet, her death wasn’t pointless because she had not only saved England, Prince John, him, and Robin but also was trying to protect Robin from John and defend her legacy. He knew that Melisende had fallen in love with Robin, but only now he realized how deeply and desperately she loved the hero.

John rubbed his cheek. “He would be a fool to do that.”

Melisende raised her voice, her tone turning frosty. “John, swear on the eternal damnation of your soul.”

A perplexed John blinked. “I promise.”

“I have to hear a sacred oath from you, John,” she demanded.

After a long, tense pause, John acquiesced, “I swear on the eternal damnation of my soul that I will never do anything against Robin Hood if he remains loyal to… England. I will do that because I… love you, Melisende, and because I… owe you my life.”

Her face lit up with a smile that could melt steel. “Thank you.” Her eyes darted between Richard and John. “I love you both, my rebellious cousins.”

Richard bent his head and planted a soft kiss on Melisende’s forehead. “I love you too, my lionet.”

She made an attempt at jesting. “Lion and lionet love each other.”

John took her hand gently, and she squeezed it in a gesture of affection. “I will never forget you, Melisende. And I will not kill… your husband,” he said honestly.

A tender smile appeared on her face. “I am grateful. I want Robin alive and safe.”

After the Plantagenet cousins finished their farewell, Megan and Guy approached Melisende, while Robin stayed a little aside, though still close to his heroic wife. Megan and the dying lady exchanged warm farewell; Melisende wished Guy and Megan a long and happy life together. Then Megan dissolved into sobs, and her legs almost gave way; she leaned more heavily on Guy who supported her.

Her friends since childhood, Roger de Lacy and Robert de Beaumont were given a minute of privacy with Melisende. Carter was nearby, intending to pay respect to Robin’s wife as well. Carter and Roger didn’t see how the tragedy happened as they had just returned from another area of the town.

“I am so sorry, Melisende,” Robert said dolefully. His pale green eyes were brimming with tears; grief hit him with a tantalizing strength, for they were not only friends but also former lovers and still shared a friendly affection for each other. “You deserve to live, my dear.”

Roger de Lacy’s emerald eyes were watery. “I am proud of our friendship.”

“You are darlings, Roger and Robert.” Melisende let out a small laugh; then a spasm of pain crossed her face, and she winced. “Just don’t forget me.”

“Never; not you,” Robert claimed in most heartfelt tones.

“We will all miss you.” Roger’s eyes itched with tears that were rather close.

“Life will go on without me.” Melisende’s voice was weak but calm.

Although he didn’t make a close acquaintance with Melisende, Carter approached Robin’s wife. “Lady Melisende, I admire you from the bottom of my heart. You will never be forgotten.”

Robert’s face grew very serious. “Melisende and Robin are England’s heroes.”

Melisende chuckled; her eyes were alight with a numinous glow. “Robin and I belong to England, though for various reasons.” She was England’s lady because she was related to a ruling royal dynasty; Robin was England’s man because of his ultimate loyalty to England. “Robin is more than I can ever be: he is the spirit of England, and you have to protect him for the sake of the whole nation.”

Robert de Beaumont caught himself on the thought that he envied his best friend because he had never had a woman who would have loved him as deeply and unconditionally as Melisende loved Robin. “We will protect England’s greatest hero,” he vowed, and a melancholic smile tugged at his mouth.

“I will look after Robin,” Carter promised.

“You have our word,” Roger de Lacy added; Carter and Robert dipped their heads in agreement.

In a few moments, only Robin stayed near Melisende; the others respectfully stepped aside at his request. Death – the canceller of the bonds of Robin Hood’s matrimony to the flame-haired sacrificial lamb – was lurking in the air, and everyone breathed it, tickling their nostrils with its cold fingers.

A distressed Robin knelt by his dying wife. “It is not fair that you are leaving me,” he whispered. Tears stung his eyes, and he gritted his teeth to keep from letting his fear and emotions get out of control. “Why did I survive in Acre if I am losing everyone I love?”

“Robin, you have a mission on earth,” she proclaimed in a voice layered with confidence. She was staring into his pale blue eyes that seemed almost luminous in tears. “You are strong. England, Richard, and the people need you. Our son needs you.”

“And I need you.” His fingers entangled into the gorgeous mane of her red-gold hair.

Melisende brushed a strand of hair from his face. “Promise me that you will be happy and… will perhaps re-marry in due time.”

An astounded Robin blinked. “Why are you saying this?”

“I want you to be happy, Robin. You cannot be a grieving widower for the rest of your life.” She reveled in his light touch as he ran a caressing finger down the side of her face. “A hero cannot belong to one woman. You have a big, kind heart and love England, our king, your wife, your friends, and the people.”

He dropped his eyes in shame. “I don’t deserve you and your love.”

That elicited his wife’s dolorific smile. “You do deserve me.” There was something she had to do for her beloved husband. “Please, ask Lady Marian to come here.”

He flicked his gaze to her and asked, “Why?”

“Quickly,” Melisende beseeched him.

A wealth of emotions, ranging from grief, anguish, fear, and puzzlement, played across his features, and Robin nodded and jumped to his feet. He turned to Marian who stood not far from them and beckoned her to them. Marian hesitated to go; it was King Richard who approached her and pushed her slightly forward.

Her legs shaking, Marian stumbled towards Melisende. Her heart sank as her eyes took in the pool of blood beneath Robin’s wife. She knelt and began, “Lady Melisende…” Her gaze wandered to the other woman’s stomach with the javelin still driven deep into her flesh. She shuddered in horror, as if she herself were in the throes of death.

Melisende looked into Marian’s eyes. “Lady Marian, I resented you for betraying Robin for a long time,” she began, her voice trembling. “Only recently I began to understand you better.”

Just then, Robin suspected what Melisende would tell Marian, and the realization of how strong his wife’s feelings for him were made Robin feel unworthy of her fathomless, deep love. Now a pang of guilt over being torn between two women overwhelmed his heart, like a deluge.

“You understand me?” Marian swallowed nervously.

Melisende smiled. “I do,” she said. “It is difficult to love a hero.”

Marian nodded. “I know.”

“I respect you, Lady Marian,” Melisende admitted, her heart filled with anguish at the thought that she had failed to win Robin’s whole heart. “If Robin and you wish to marry after my death, I would not object. You will be the only woman who can make him happy after I am gone,” she forced the words to come out.

Robin was unable to look at either of these two women. He continued staring at the pool of blood on the snow-covered ground. Now his heart was overflowing with immense admiration of Melisende’s kindness and the nobility of her heart; it was mingled with the guilt of hurting her by his inability to forget Marian.

Marian’s visage changed into sheer abashment. “Lady Melisende...” She trailed off.

There was a rich chuckle from Melisende; she was cognizant that her words shocked her rival. “Lady Marian, you don’t need to respond. Now leave me with my husband,” she said firmly.

Marian leaped to her feet and slowly walked away. The expression on her face was hard to describe, for she looked shocked, terrified, astounded, grief-stricken, and panicked all at once. Tears were running down her cheeks, and her chest was heaving, as if she were out of breath. She paused near Guy and Megan didn’t look at them, lingering her gaze at Melisende’s motionless form. Marian was on the verge of a complete breakdown; her knees were wobbly and unstable, and she would have probably lost her balance if King Richard hadn’t wrapped his arm around her waist to support her.

Her eyes aglow like a conflagration of amorous fire, Melisende requested, “Kiss me.”

There was a mortuary silence in the courtyard, which stretched in all directions, surrounding the town of Nottingham and pristine Sherwood with an aura of impending affliction. There was a solemnity all around; the solemnity of a temple devoted to the last rites of a dying ancient goodness.

In that profound silence of mute greatness, Robin bent his head down and gazed into his wife’s eyes devotedly. His lips gently touched hers, and he kissed Melisende slowly, achingly, and reverently, putting all his love into that kiss. The undercurrents of love and of loss were flowing between them, like wraiths that were burying her life, together with her passion for her husband, in the coffin of fathomless doom.

Their kiss was like the spring: warm, vernal, and benignant, yet mysterious too, filled with subtle colors and quiet shadows which sometimes baffled Robin. Robin felt that Melisende would forever remain the greatest and most glorious enigma in his life, but not an enigma of Sherwood and England – a mystery of the distant and refined Aquitaine where his wife had been born and grown up. When Robin parted at last and gazed down at Melisende, her eyes were glowing with an eerie biblical light.

Melisende was beaming. “I love you, my Robin Hood,” she whispered.

“I love you, my wife,” Robin answered through tears.

“Love our son for both of us, Robin.”

“I will,” he pledged.

She touched a great amethyst and diamonds ring on her finger, her wedding ring. “You made me the happiest woman while we were married; I have no regrets.”

His mouth twisted with the effort to hold back his emotions. “I have no regrets either.”

Melisende smiled with a beatific smile, and her visage was bright and happy as it had been on the day of their wedding in Acre. “No woman can have any regrets if she was married to a wonderful man such as you.” She surreptitiously reached out for the javelin. Staring into her husband’s eyes, she pulled out the javelin, and a soft cry of pain rippled across the air, like a short, weak cry of a young bird. Her grip on the javelin loosened, and it slipped from her hand to the ground.

“Shhh,” Robin whispered, cradling her head in his hands.

Melisende heard an otherworldly music of death in her head, its tunes plangent and plaintive. In the immensity of the moment, the events of her life glided past her like a boat on the River Styx. She didn’t regret her death: she had a wonderful life, loved England’s great hero, and was loved in return; she had a quick death in a blaze of her glory, for she saved her country, her cousins, and her Robin. A light smile of relief spread across her beautiful features, her farewell smile to Robin. Then her vision began to blur, and she shivered all over, feeling the cool hand of death caress her face, lightly and reverently. She thought of her Robin as the last of her life ebbed away, and the whole world appeared serene and peaceful.

Melisende’s eyes had an unearthly brightness in them. “Robin,” she murmured as she closed her eyes forever. Her heart collapsed; death smiled at her and embraced her like a mother embraces her child.

“I will never forget you,” Robin enunciated in a broken voice, looking at his wife’s face.

There was a lethal silence in the courtyard. The world was without breath, without light, and without life, as if the heart of hearts had ceased to beat and the end of all things had come.

Everyone exhaled a collective sigh of commiseration and bowed their heads in deep respect to Melisende, whose selfless sacrifice saved the lives of King Richard, Prince John, and Robin of Locksley. King Richard and Prince John were staring at Melisende, their eyes shimmering with unshed tears, which they were struggling to suppress as royals were not supposed to show their emotions publicly.

Robin was holding Melisende in his arms, unable to take his gaze off her peaceful face. His faith in justice and the buoyancy of his belief in the future were destroyed like a house of cards; his heart was bleeding like a waterfall of blood and excruciating emotions, and his soul was drowning in a maelstrom of agonizing pain.

King Richard approached and put a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Robin,” he called softly. He sighed as Robin didn’t react. “Robin, she is gone,” he repeated.

Robin tore his gaze from Melisende and glanced at the king. Richard almost shrank away from his brother as he saw the complete hollowness in two twin pools of extinguished pale blue fire. There were no tears in Robin’s eyes as they had already dried; there was an air of stoicism about Robin, and his expression was impenetrable, but the king had never seen his favorite so detached.

“I know,” Robin said in a distant voice that seemed to belong to someone else. Then he lowered his eyes and stared at Melisende. “She died because of me.”

Richard sighed heavily. “Melisende had a death which we all can envy. She died for England, for me, for John, and for you,” he uttered slowly, letting Robin have some time to grasp the meaning of his words. “She died for the love of her life, and death crowned her.”

“To arms! The Black Knights are attacking!” Roger de Lacy suddenly proclaimed in a high voice; then he unsheathed his sword. “For King Richard! For England!”

“Protect King Richard and Prince John!” Robert de Beaumont shouted as he drew his scimitar. “Form a double line of protection around the area where the king is now!”

Shouts and the clang of metal filled the air. Robin’s eyes took in the chaotic picture: the king’s men began attacking the Black Knights who suddenly appeared on the square, spreading death and terror on every side. He could hear Robert commanding the Lionheart’s knights to protect Richard and John, while Roger de Lacy was leading the battle in the courtyard. Guy of Gisborne, Carter of Stretton, Little John, and Robin’s other friends charged into the battle, while three ladies – Isabella, Megan, and Marian – were ordered by the king to leave the place under the protection of Allan and Archer.

“Richard!” Prince John called in a voice tinged with panic. “I don’t know what is happening! They are my soldiers, but I didn’t command them to attack you!”

Richard nodded solemnly. “I know, John.” His gaze drifted to Robin who was still with his deceased wife. “Robin, we have to go.” His voice was soft. “You have to leave, Robin.”

The king’s words pulled Robin out of his funeral slumber. “What about you, milord?”

“I am King of England! I will fight with my men!” the king promulgated in a loud voice woven of deadly resolve and hatred that expressed his fervent thirst to retaliate. He unsheathed his huge broadsword, his gaze oscillating between his dead cousin and his brother. “Robin, you will leave the battlefield.” His voice faltered as he pronounced, “Take Melisende with you and follow Archer who is taking the ladies to safety.”

“No,” Robin persisted as another plan was forming in his head.

“Robin, you cannot fight now,” the king pointed out.

Robin’s features evolved into icy coldness. “I cannot run away like a rat from the sinking ship. I cannot forgive and forget what Vaisey and Sheridan did to all of us.”

“Robin, you cannot fight now,” Richard tried to talk sense into him. “We cannot lose you.”

Robin dropped his gaze to Melisende. “I am fine,” he said dismissively.

King Richard was momentarily distracted, shouting orders to his men. The king’s men launched a series of rampageous attacks on the Black Knights led by Lord Walter Sheridan who appeared in the distant part of the courtyard on his black stallion. Sheriff Vaisey was sitting on his horse next to Sheridan, listening to the other man’s commands and waiting for the moment when their mercenaries would push the king’s soldiers back so that they could use one of the avenues of escape while the battle continued to rage.

Robin lifted his gaze heavenward, his eyes filled with tears. _His father and his wife were both dead_. As he thought about the afterlife, the pain in his heart blossomed and burned him from the inside out, like incandescent flames of a diabolical world. Yet, for some odd reason, Robin felt that Melisende’s death was the natural order of things. He loved his dead wife and needed her, he would never fully accept the new loss, and he would never forget Melisende, but maybe, just maybe, in the end, there was his new beginning.

A resplendent world still existed within the frontier of infamy and filth, pain and misery. Eventually, Robin’s life would come down to the shore of the untainted ocean where the blithesome days of his youth, unblemished by a funereal haze of sufferings, had perished. The old era was gone and would remain fleeting vistas of bygone times, but the spirit of the past was still breathing life and love into the souls of Robin and Marian, despite all the trials and tribulations, all the blunders and missed opportunities. The greenery of the old days was alive in Sherwood Forest and was hidden in the depths of the heroes’ hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! All the best to you and your families! 
> 
> Many thanks to Coleen561 and Mademoiselle Nathalie for sharing their thoughts about the finale and for helping with some scenes.
> 
> As I promised, I am posting chapter 15 before the end of the year. I didn’t update it on Christmas because two characters die in this chapter, and Christmas is incongruent with death. Here is the news: we started to work on Chapters 16 and hope that we will be able to update the story in about two weeks. 
> 
> I have always considered Guy’s redemption incomplete in the show. There is a hint of a similarity between his redemption arc in the series and his arc in this story: Guy fights for King Richard and Robin Hood in the siege, but in this story, Guy feels more responsibility to the people of Nottingham than he felt in the show. I tried to reflect Guy’s desire to make up for the wrongs he caused to the populace in the first scene in this chapter. The evacuation of the people has been organized only thanks to Guy, and you will realize how many lives it helped to save in the next chapter – Vaisey is not going to capitulate.
> 
> Prince John surrenders the castle to King Richard because he knows that Richard will not order his execution. In this story, John’s surrender was not unconditional: the prince demanded that the king name him his successor, and Richard gladly agreed. I remind you that in real history, Prince John retreated to Normandy, where Richard finally found him later that year; Richard named him his heir in several years after the siege of Nottingham.
> 
> Many readers were confused as to whether Rebecca was Vaisey’s spy or not, but I politely refused to answer this question and asked you to wait. Now you are probably shocked because Rebecca is not only Vaisey’s spy but also Malcolm’s spurned lover. I am sure that you are also surprised at the turn of events: Malcolm of Locksley heroically saved Guy’s life and was brutally murdered by Rebecca. My explanation is that I needed Malcolm to redeem his debt to the Gisborne family for accidentally murdering Ghislaine, and he achieves this by sacrificing himself for Guy. Malcolm is a tragic character, but he could have survived if Rebecca hadn’t plunged her sword into his chest. The fate of Robin’s father was sealed from the very beginning: I was planning to kill off him in the siege, and he does have a noble death, which is good given his ignoble life. I had Rebecca kill Malcolm for drama and for another twist in chapter 16.
> 
> I believe that many readers waited for Marian’s or Melisende’s death, and it indeed happened. The triangle Marian/Robin/Melisende has finally been resolved. I hope that you like the tragic scene and descriptions of Melisende’s death which are lyrical and lovely. As for the Robin/Marian pairing, I gave you several clues about their possible future, but you have to wait to learn who the story ends for them. 
> 
> Melisende is my favorite female character in this trilogy, and it was not easy for me to write the scene of her death. But I confess that she was destined to die from the very beginning. Melisende’s death is very heroic: she saved King Richard, Prince John, and Robin from Sheridan’s spears, and she saved England too. Her tragic death also allowed me to ensure Robin’s safety: Prince John is a vile man, but even for him the vow on the eternal damnation of his soul is a serious thing, and now Robin is safe from John, which was Melisende’s intention when she asked her cousin to make this sacred promise.


	16. The End of Demons

**Chapter 16**

**The End of Demons**

 While the battle raged, Robin was still holding his heroically deceased wife in his arms, his face a mask of endless hatred, his furious heart like the crater of a volcano before a destructive eruption. He jumped to his feet and cast a guilty gaze at Melisende that he was going to leave her. Robin donned his helmet, thrust his shield on his left arm, and strode forward; he then mingled with the crowd.

In the midst of the fighting men, King Richard noticed that his brother had already left. “Robin!” he shouted, his eyes wandering around.

In a few moments, Guy appeared near Richard. “Sire, I can find Robin.”

“We can do that without you, Gisborne,” Robert de Beaumont interjected.

“I want to help,” Guy insisted.

Richard nodded. “Go. Protect Robin at any cost.”

Robert looked worried. “What about you, my liege?”

“Roger de Lacy and I will command the battle,” the king stated. “There are enough people to protect me.” 

“Alright, sire,” Robert uttered, still worried about the king.

“We will watch over him,” Guy pledged.

Their visors down, Robert de Beaumont and Guy of Gisborne blended with the crowd of combatants. De Lacy’s shrilling voice commanded to form the line of protection around the king and the prince, but the aggressive attack of the Black Knights caused the king’s men to retreat to the part of the courtyard where Melisende had been killed. Prince John himself took Melisende’s body in his arms; Richard commanded fifty men to protect the prince and escort him away from the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Robin was in the heart of the battle, swinging his scimitar at the Black Knights. As he spotted Sheridan and Vaisey in the opposite part of the square, he slowly began moving in that direction. He was acting like a killing machine. Cutting life after life, Robin could barely visualize the faces of his enemies between countless lethal blows he delivered, his violence more dangerous than legions armed to the teeth.

Walter Sheridan dismounted and told the sheriff, “I am going to aid our men to corner Richard’s men. We must escape from the town.” He flipped up the visor of his helmet to get a better look at the battlefield.

Vaisey laughed maliciously; he wasn’t wearing heavy armor.  “Lord Sheridan, our little trick worked, and now we have skilled fighters who can resist the king’s men.”

Sheridan smiled nastily as he drew his sword. “It was a good idea to buy Prince John’s men from the elite guard. Loyalty can be easily bought.”

Vaisey smirked. “You are a cunning fox. I will bet the prince knows nothing.”

“Of course, he has no idea.” Sheridan’s expression was extremely cheerful. “I predicted that John would bow to Richard to save his life, so I had to act.”

Vaisey gritted out, “I didn’t think that Prince John would help King Richard’s men slip into the town through one of the secret passages.” His countenance changed into fury. “I should have predicted that John would surrender.” He admitted that he had overestimated the effect of his blackmail on John.

“At least I arranged something to help us. Even though we are unlikely to win today, we can flee.”

Vaisey smiled malevolently. “Maybe we will be able to kill King Richard in this battle, Lord Sheridan. Then John will become king and will be obliged to us.”

Sheridan arched a brow. “Even after we tried to kill him at your insistence?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vaisey countered, his mind reproducing the picture of Robin rushing to his injured wife. “But Robin Hood received his last gift from me.”

“Robin Hood,” Sheridan said quietly, his brain working hard.

Vaisey warned, “Hood has gone on a rampage after we killed his lovely leper wife.”

Sheridan dipped his head in assent. “I have no doubt Robin will try to avenge Lady Melisende’s death.” He smiled craftily. “Robin is an outstanding swordsman, but I am also very skilled with a sword.”

Vaisey’s spirits lifted. “This is good! I would love to see you kill Hood. I have long wanted Hood’s pretty little head on my spike, but if I cannot kill him, maybe you will be luckier.”

Sheridan smiled. “Maybe.” He barked his commands to Prince John’s former men, who were guarding the sheriff, and charged into the battle with an inhuman war cry.

“Blamire, we will watch the battle,” Vaisey told his companion. “We will wait for Sheridan’s return, but if he disappears for a long time, we will escape alone.”

Blamire nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good idea,” the Earl of Spenser agreed.

“Yes, we will have to escape,” the Earl of Durham added.

“Lord Vaisey, don’t you want to deal with Gisborne?” Blamire inquired. “Should I find and kill him?” He knew that Vaisey was dreaming of taking vengeance against Guy.

“Not now,” Vaisey proclaimed uncompromisingly. “But soon.”

While being involved in the fight, Robin observed Sheridan join the battle in an attempt to make his way to King Richard. Sheridan had sentenced himself to death when he had thrown those javelins down from the battlements and murdered Melisende, but the fact that the evil man was going to attempt regicide sent Robin to the edge of insanity. Sheridan would die at his hand, Robin vowed.

Robin couldn’t hear the shouts of combatants and King Richard’s booming voice commanding his soldiers to attack and his archers to begin shooting Vaisey and Sheridan’s men. His mind didn’t register the screams of the wounded and dying soldiers that filled the air. All he could see was Sheridan’s back as the traitor reached the castle’s front steps and crouched, his crossbow at the ready as he targeted King Richard who was fighting with his men in the center of the square.

“It’s over, Sheridan,” Robin hissed as he appeared near his former trainer. “I won’t allow you to kill King Richard.” His voice echoed through the courtyard, freezing Richard and his men for a moment as their eyes focused on Robin and Sheridan who were glaring at each other ferociously.

Holding the crossbow, Sheridan turned to Robin, his face contorted in ire. "Robin of Locksley,” he hissed between clenched teeth. He threw his crossbow away and drew his sword; then he clapped down the visor of his helmet. “You won’t deter me!”

The battle continued as King Richard’s men were battling for the control of Nottingham. Robin lunged at Sheridan with a diagonal blow, but his foe parried it. Robin then made three slashing motions, but his adversary deflected each of them with blows aimed at his head. At first, Robin was swinging his scimitar for Sheridan’s head, but then he changed his strategy and was now trying to disarm the traitor.

Robin swiftly parried Sheridan’s downward blow. “I was late to save my wife, but I will save the king.”

Sheridan eluded Robin’s blow. “I will deal with you, Huntingdon.”

Robin’s lips stretched into a feral grin. “You will pay for what you did.”

“Why are you always meddling in affairs of others?”

Robin’s eyes were ablaze with visceral hatred. “I will never let the Black Knights kill the king.” He brought his scimitar up in a parry. “I am not a traitor, unlike you!”

“You always defend your precious Richard!” Sheridan screamed in rage. “The king never betrayed you!” He wielded his sword at Robin who blocked with ease.

“Traitor!” Robin thundered back as he ducked. “Foul traitor!”

“You should have never confronted the Black Knights.” The older man stabbed at Robin who deflected his blow.

Robin sidestepped. “I am such an unwelcome guest at your perfidious parties? I guess I am.”

Sheridan rolled his eyes. “Huntingdon, I used to like your dry humor, but only until you ruined Prince John’s coronation.”

“You have always lacked a sense of humor, Sheridan.” Robin’s gaze was sharp and clear, focused on the tip of his scimitar as he advanced forward and crisscrossed the blades with Sheridan. “But not all traitors suffer from this misfortune. Prince John likes theatrics. Why hasn’t he taught you to be a bit witty?”

There was a dark, hateful grimace on the face of the king’s former loyal man as his sword slashed at Robin's head. “I will teach you a lesson, Hood!”

Robin made a sly movement of his scimitar down and then suddenly up as he rained a downward blow at Sheridan’s midsection. A laughing Sheridan blocked by directing at Robin a downward diagonal blow of such a great strength that Robin’s scimitar trembled in his hands. Robin took a step back, closer to the castle’s entrance. Robin’s fight with Sheridan was difficult and rampageous.

“You should have been dead a long ago,” Sheridan growled, advancing at his rival.

“Many times over," Robin shot back his trademark taunt.

Robin wielded his scimitar expertly and traded a series of powerful blows with Sheridan. The duel on the front steps of the castle was the final battle of these two men. Robin kept launching attacks at Sheridan, yet always meeting a great resistance. Robin’s world was concentrated on the fight. He couldn’t see the arrows that had hit the Black Knights who were about to assist their commander in dealing with the annoying opponent; even though he was busy with his own fight, King Richard sensed the danger for Robin and ordered his archers to target those Black Knights to protect Robin.

Gnashing his teeth, Robin launched a new assault on his opponent: it was a circular blow followed by a diagonal blow. Smiling at Robin, Sheridan sidestepped before swinging down hard at Robin and forcing the younger man to step back. Robin spun, wielding his scimitar at Sheridan in a lethal arc and then bringing it down with the ease and competence born of endless practice and expert professionalism.

However, Sheridan knew many of Robin’s secret blows and counterattacked Robin. The swords clashed, and this time, Sheridan was lucky as Robin’s scimitar slipped from his hands, and now Robin was disarmed. Robin jumped out of the way at the very last moment to avoid being impaled on the other man’s weapon. Sheridan uttered a scream of rage and thrust his sword at his opponent, this time cornering Robin.

Robin looked into Sheridan’s face fearlessly. “Are you happy now, Sheridan?” He dropped to his knees on the cold steps, near the wall, as though all his strength had been sucked out of him.

From the corner of his eye, King Richard noticed what had just happened. “Robin!”

The monarch didn’t know that Robert and Guy were already almost near Robin. The battle was savage, and it had been impossible for them to reach Robin before.

“You were one of my best knights, Huntingdon,” Lord Sheridan said with a note of regret, his sword hovering over Robin. “I never thought that I would finish you off, my boy.”

Robin’s aversion to the man was extreme. “Do it, Sheridan,” he answered tiredly. “Kill me if you want.” He had died in Acre, and he could die again.

“I am actually sorry that I am killing you,” Sheridan proclaimed, grappling with unexpected remorse. “It would have been better if Vaisey had murdered you.” Hatred vied with sadness inside, but the former won out. As a maniacal glint entered his eyes, he envisaged himself striking a fatal blow. “But I am honor bound to kill a legend of England. I will tell my grandchildren that I defeated and destroyed Robin Hood!”

Robin’s mouth curved in a derisive smile. “Your descendants will admire you.”

“Shut up, you damned outlaw!” Sheridan’s voice was dripping with disdain, his countenance forcibly unwavering due to the guilt still pooling within his gut.

Looking up at Sheridan, Robin could see the other man’s frantic eyes and his triumphant smile. The battle stopped all at once as everyone stared at the horrifying picture: Sheridan was about to administer a killing blow to King Richard’s grand favorite and close friend. The king stood paralyzed in fear, too far to come to Robin’s rescue. But Robin wasn’t destined to die in the courtyard as Robert de Beaumont and Guy of Gisborne appeared near him as if out of nowhere.

“Robin!” Robert blocked Sheridan’s blow before the traitor could murder the hero.

Guy rushed to Robin who lay on the steps. “Robin!” he called.

“I am fine.” Robin looked unnaturally composed, as if he hadn’t been on the brink of death a moment ago.

Lord Sheridan took a step backwards and gave a scream of rage as Robert attacked his teacher with a ferocity and strength that quickly brought him to the defensive. Sheridan shouted commands to his men to help him deal with Robin’s saviors. While Sheridan and Robert were engaged in their fierce battle, Gisborne assisted Robin to his feet and handed the hero his scimitar. Suddenly, at least five Black Knights appeared on the front steps and surrounded Robin, Robert, and Guy.

As everyone saw that Robin was safe at least, the battle continued. Crazed with bloodlust, Robin, Robert, and Guy attacked with a fierceness that had sent their foes to the ground. The Black Knights didn't deserve to live! Guy, a former traitor, didn’t feel a shadow of remorse for taking their lives.

But out of all the king’s men, Robin was the most savage and unpredictable, so steep in bloodlust that his whole world was illuminated by an inauspicious red glow. The air glittered with a blur of steel as Robin moved like a wolf stalking his prey. He submerged into the opaque darkness that always swallowed him on the battlefield, but today its grip was tighter and its effect of blankness more profound than ever.

Robert slashed his scimitar in a detrimental arc which Sheridan countered with a clinging parry. The next time, Robert’s sword came crashing at Sheridan in a diagonal blow that, however, turned out to be a deceptive combination as Robert feigned movement to the right and then brought his sword to the left in an upward blow. Sheridan sweated and shivered, and then dropped his sword; fear crept into his eyes that met Robert’s. King Richard called Robert the best swordsman in Christendom, and that was true, which was proved by Robert’s quick victory over Sheridan.

A weaponless Sheridan stood between Robin and Robert, each of them glaring at him with festering hatred, their helmets taken off. Guy stood nearby, his visor up, his eyes glued to Sheridan.

Smiling morbidly, Robert pressed his scimitar to Sheridan’s throat. “You are done for, Sheridan,” he announced, a lurid fire of animosity glowing in his pale green eyes.

“Just do it quickly,” Sheridan beseeched.

Robin shook his head. “Get on your knees,” he enjoined in a dispassionate voice.

“What are you going to do?” Guy questioned as he stopped near Robin and Robert.

“You will see now,” Robin barked in a metallic voice; his eyes bore into Sheridan’s. “Get on your knees,” he hissed like a venomous snake.

As Sheridan realized what Robin wanted, he began to struggle, not wishing to have such a humiliating end. “Robin, please don’t do this to me! Kill me as a warrior!”

Sheridan’s entreaty didn’t penetrate Robin’s heart. “No,” he spat.

“Please, Robin and Robert,” Sheridan begged, looking between the two men with terrified eyes, “kill me with one strike in the chest. That’s all I am asking you to do.”

“You deserve the worst after what you did,” Guy opined.

Robert glanced at Robin with a silent question in his eyes, and Robin nodded firmly. Guy watched Robin and Robert force Sheridan to his knees.

Narrowing his eyes, his resolve solidifying once more, Robin affirmed, “You are no longer my teacher and my comrade – you are a traitor to King Richard and the murderer of my wife. Thank us that you won’t be hanged, drawn, and quartered.” He lifted his scimitar. “Go to the netherworld and burn for your sins.”

“Go to hell,” Robert said as he raised his scimitar synchronically with Robin.

The king’s men and the Black Knights again stopped fighting at the sight of a defeated Sheridan standing on his knees on the front steps. Robin veered his gaze to the king, silently asking for the permission to proceed; Richard nodded, and Robin looked at the nape of Sheridan’s grizzled head.

His features stony, a touch of brutality in two blazing pools of sulphurous fire, Robin rudely grabbed Sheridan’s hair, and then beheaded the traitor. Simultaneously, Robert plunged his weapon into Sheridan’s heart. The severed head tumbled to the ground, blood gushing out of the torn human flesh. The king’s men didn’t bow their heads, like they had acted when Melisende had passed away. In the bleak sunshine, the pool of blood beneath the corpse seemed unnaturally red as it seeped into the snow-covered front steps.

“He is dead, Robin,” Guy told Robin quietly. “You have avenged her death.”

“It matters not,” Robin replied in a hollow voice.

When Robin’s gaze encountered Guy’s, Guy discerned the emptiness in Robin’s eyes that usually sparkled with mischief and joy. He didn’t see the mighty Earl of Huntingdon and the legendary Captain Locksley in Robin: the young hero was just a man who had lost his wife and took his revenge that didn’t lessen his heartache. Robin’s eyes were the reflection of his disappointed hopes and of his inner brokenness, his visage painted in the gloomiest hues. A twinge of guilt caused Guy to feel uncomfortable as he recalled that he had considered the hero a spoiled brat; his conclusions had been so very wrong.

“At least you have achieved that,” Guy added, not knowing what else he could say.

“It brings no relief,” Robin answered, his gaze focused on Sheridan’s head.

“I understand,” Guy answered softly.

Robin’s eyes glowed in mystification as he looked Guy squarely in the eye. “No, you don’t comprehend, Guy. And God forbid that you ever find yourself in my shoes.”

“I am sorry, Robin.” Guy could hardly imagine the sheer pain of losing his beloved.

Having been distracted by the king’s soldiers who had come to collect Sheridan’s head, Robert didn’t hear Guy and Robin’s exchange. As he approached Robin, the look in Robin’s eyes was painful to his senses.  “Robin, it will be better soon,” he allayed.

Robin breathed out a humorless chuckle. “You think so?” No more words were spoken because they were all drowning in a bottomless ocean of Robin’s great grief.

§§§

Robin and Guy watched Robert taking Sheridan’s severed head and showing it to the remaining Black Knights in the courtyard. Later, his corpse would be quartered and displayed across Nottinghamshire; it would not be reassembled even for a burial.

“It’s over!” Robert de Beaumont shrilled from the front steps, holding Sheridan’s head and flaunting it for the traitors. “Put down your weapons or be killed here!”

The first pricklings of panic began to spread among the Black Knights, and the courtyard was thrown into a frightful chaos as they tried to escape in shock and fear while the king’s men butchered everyone who crossed their path. The battle reminded a massacre, blood gushed like a crimson waterfall, and more men fell on both sides. The air was filled with the clang of quarreling steel, bellowed curses, and anguished screams. The Black Knights wouldn’t capitulate, knowing that the king would order their execution anyway.

“Death to traitors! For England!” King Richard’s booming voice resonated.

The king’s loud voice pulled Robin out of his short reverie. His frantic eyes wandered around, taking in the appalling sights of the battle – bodies, hacked and bleeding, lay strewn along the courtyard. Some wounded Black Knights fell to the pavement and were then trampled by the king’s men who yelled for blood and, having finished off one foe, attacked others with more vigor. Charging forward, King Richard’s soldiers used their swords, daggers, and other weapons to stab their foes, and if they spotted someone escaping, they hurled spears at the horses and then jumped on top of the men thrown to the ground, plunging their blades in the treacherous skulls, throats, chests, flanks, and bellies.

Robin inhaled, but the breath caught in his throat. The air was charged with hatred and vengeance in its most primitive and elemental form: the violence of the king’s men was promulgating the proverbial words of a goodness of war – _an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth_. A storm of the most antagonistic emotions escalated in Robin’s heart that was instantly filled with savage hatred. A feeling stronger than chasmal grief hit him like a sharp axe to his chest; it was something more permanent than atrocious pain. It was the reality of love lost and the era ended; a chance for having a blissful happiness that he couldn’t realize because Robin couldn’t forget Marian.

After Melisende’s death, the canvas of Robin’s life was tattered, although a small part of him still fostered hope for a world of unblemished beauty. But the reality where he was at this very moment was besmirched with blasphemy. A wave of heartache washed over him, and remnants of that strange hope trod towards doldrums; now Robin was seized by such unlimited bloodlust that all he could see was a red mist before his eyes. With every fibre of his being, he craved vengeance that was a fair retribution for all the evil deeds perpetrated by Prince John’s supporters.

“They will pay for treason!" Robin roared as he pulled his visor down. "I want them all dead!”

Guy eyed Robin worriedly. “Just be careful,” he advised.

“I don’t care,” Robin snapped. Then he walked away from the front steps.

“I will take care of him,” Robert said hastily; he then followed Robin.

Robin charged into the battle like a madman, with renewed fury and total disregard for his own safety. “Charge them! For King Richard! For England!” he shouted in Norman-French at the top of his voice. Then he repeated the same in English.

Robin’s war cry was echoed by the king's men. Robert followed Robin like a shadow, and soon they blended with the furious melee. As usual, King Richard proved himself a great general as he commanded the battle, guiding his men to deal with the panicking adversaries. When the line of the Black Knights began to retreat to the other side of the courtyard, the king enjoined to trap the Black Knights in the courtyard. Those who tried to escape were pulled off their horses and slaughtered on the spot.

For a while, Guy stood on the front steps, watching the battle. He thought that they did the right thing when they had evacuated almost the whole town. He continuously scanned the courtyard, fearing that some destructive trouble would come like a travail upon a woman with child, but nearby lanes and streets seemed clear. With every heartbeat, the king’s men were closer to victory, and the darkest demons were unleashed in an orgy of butchery.

Guy looked at the sky where the sun popped out from behind the clouds. He then regarded the square, and then, all of a sudden, his blood ran cold as his eyes fell on the demon of Nottingham. Vaisey was a man who caused a great deal of suffering and sorrow; a man capable of any vile crime on his path to perverted greatness. Internecine war evoked in the sheriff sadistic pleasure, and he salivated at the thought of spilled blood, obviously relishing the sight of the square strewn with corpses.

Standing behind a column, Vaisey contemplated the battle; at the sight of him, a tidal wave of berserk rage surged through Guy.  Then Vaisey stealthily stalked away.

Guy swiftly moved towards the entrance to the castle; he discarded his helmet for convenience. Guy figured out that the sheriff was going to the same place where they had once fought after Guy’s return from Acre; it was also the same tower from where Sheridan had thrown spears and murdered Melisende. Guy quickly figured out that Vaisey would attempt to escape while the battle still raged, using a secret staircase in the highest tower, from where he could get into the underground dungeons.

Guy’s footsteps resounded through the empty hallways. Vaisey was probably alone, which made him even more eager to kill the evil man. The castle was deserted, and Guy freely passed through many rooms and corridors. Looking around, Guy opened the heavy wooden door and saw the steep staircase; he mounted it.

Guy paused, straining to catch even a slight movement or a quiet rustle. He heard the footfall somewhere near the battlements, and entered the tower room and stopped, his eyes examining his surroundings. His nerves taunt, he walked forward; his hand slid down to the blade of the sword. And then he saw Vaisey who stood near the battlements and was calmly peering at Guy.

Vaisey laughed maliciously. “Oh, Gisborne, my dear boy, I knew that you would appear here! I am delighted to see you, my boy. Will you try to kill me this time?”

Guy advanced forward; he ripped his sword from the scabbard. “You are doomed, Vaisey,” he said menacingly, his teeth clenched. “Where is your spy, Rebecca?”

The sheriff was surprised that Guy knew the truth. “She will come soon.”

Guy avowed, “This time, I will cut you into pieces to ensure that you are really dead.”

“You will never change, my beloved Gizzy… dizzy… drizzly!” the sheriff sang in a familiar abominable, acrid voice. “Are you sure that you have the guts to kill me?”

Guy threatened as he took a step towards the fiend, “I will send you to hell where you will be burning forever. I already feel the scent of your barred flesh.”

Vaisey didn’t back away from Guy. “We will burn in hellfire together.”

Guy shuddered as he remembered his old nightmare that he and Vaisey were in hell. “I am not the same man who served you, Vaisey. I am no longer a traitor.”

Vaisey’s lips stretched into a ghoulish grin. “Gisborne, you are as stupid and naïve as a child when it comes to rational thinking. You don’t have Robin Hood’s shrewd intelligence. All sages of the world are laughing at you, my boy, as they know that even if they gathered together and tried to teach you some wisdom, they would have accomplished nothing,” he humiliated. “We still have our game to finish, my dear boy.” He paused and sent an airy kiss to his former henchman. “And you won’t win.”

In the next moment, Guy noticed a flash of steel as Blamire approached him from the back and rushed into an attack on him. Guy spun and was barely able to dodge from a blow. Guy then swung his sword at his opponent, targeting Blamire’s head, but the dark-skinned man sidestepped and batted Guy’s diagonal blow away. Guy wielded his sword in a flurry of cuts and strikes which Blamire blocked with a laugh, and he quickly grew chagrined at his ability to disarm his rival.

Guy was sweaty and was already exhausted from the previous fights while Blamire had watched the battle, protecting Vaisey. Both men exchanged many powerful blows, while a snickering Vaisey beheld them. Although Guy was a trained knight, Blamire was more skilled with a sword because he had fought for several years in Palestine before being recruited by the sheriff to serve him in England.

A lethal smile twisted his features, and Vaisey hissed, “My dear boy, you betrayed the Black Knights and me. Betrayal is purposeful and self-serving, and I know that King Richard rewarded you generously. Your sentence is death, Gisborne.”

“I will never forgive you for what you did to my mother, to my sister, and to me,” Guy fired back. He lunged at Blamire, but the other man parried his blow.

Vaisey howled with a diabolical laugh. “Lepers, Gisborne, lepers! I warned you many times that their poison is dangerous for men!” He trailed off, collecting his thoughts. Then he continued, “I cast aspersions upon your mother’s reputation, and she had to marry Roger of Gisborne. But scenes of her dissipation in King Henry’s bed and her shame followed her like shadows all her life. When I met you, I was a bit sentimental and wanted you to work for me, but your betrayal caused me to hate you, Gisborne.”

“Like you hated my mother,” Guy assumed as he ducked.

“I hate and love Ghislaine,” Vaisey answered in a faraway voice, without malice.

Guy screamed as he deflected a blow, “You don’t know what love is!”

Vaisey rolled his eyes theatrically. “Haha! You are whining like a baby, Gisborne!”

Guy glared at Vaisey with utter loathing. Thrusting his sword at his opponent's middle, Guy then slashed at Blamire with an overhead blow, but his adversary ducked and sliced his long curved sword at Guy’s unguarded right side. Guy rapidly parried the blow and stepped towards the battlements, but Blamire was quicker and rained down blows in a vehement frenzy. Guy suddenly found himself almost falling into the gap between two merlons as he staggered backwards and almost lost his footing.

Vaisey commented spitefully, “Gisborne, my friend Blamire is a better swordsman than you. I shouldn’t be astonished because you have always been utterly incompetent.”

Mortal dread clenched Guy’s stomach at the sight of the abyss below him; it was superseded by rage that goaded Guy’s into action. With a loud cry, Guy hurled himself at Blamire, slashing away with his blade. Guy then stepped away from the battlement; he couldn’t see Robin’s surprised face at the sight of Guy who was obviously engaged in combat.

Blamire and Gisborne circled each other and traded more vicious blows. The longer the battle continued, the more confident Guy was becoming that Blamire would probably win, and the louder Vaisey was sniggering, his laugh reaching Guy’s ears like the tongue of a venomous serpent with a long-range bite. Blamire smashed the hilt of his sword into Guy’s jaw. Guy screamed and fell to his knees; he was disarmed, his sword on the stone floor far from him. In a heartbeat, Blamire pressed the blade to Guy’s neck.

“It is done, Lord Vaisey,” Blamire announced, looking down at the defeated Guy.

“Will you kill me now?” Guy asked, looking up into Blamire’s eyes. His breathing was erratic, and his skin felt suddenly clammy; every muscle of his body was tense.

“I will, my dear boy.” Vaisey came to Guy. “My hand will send you to hell.”

Guy’s gaze locked with Vaisey’s. He expected the sheriff to kill him straight away, but Vaisey merely stood beside Guy, his gray brows furrowed, his eyes narrowed to slits at Guy, a predatory smile on his face. It was the culmination of Vaisey’s warfare with Guy, as the devil and his former henchman, glared at each other.

The sheriff broke the silence and laughed, his laugh a malevolent sound of the demon who had no pity to his former ally. Vaisey then unsheathed his own sword and motioned for Blamire to move and give him some place so that he could approach the defeated foe; Blamire obeyed. The sheriff then leaned over Gisborne, preparing to deliver a fatal blow while Blamire was still holding the blade near Guy’s neck.

Vaisey wore a mocking smile. “You are pathetic, Gisborne.” He regarded Guy contemptuously. Pointing a tip of his sword at the other man, he confessed, with a note of regret, “I did love you as a son, Gizzy. And you loved me like a father once, but your betrayal sealed your fate. There is nothing more fetid than the scent of betrayal, and I can barely breathe in your presence, Gisborne. All my affection for you is gone.”

Guy boldly reposted, “To be betrayed, there would have to have been your trust, Vaisey. You could tell me the truth of your own accord, but you didn’t. You never trusted me; you always lied to me and used me.”

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Vaisey spat, “Trust is not something we give; it is something that we earn, but you never did because of all your failures. You have always been a disappointment to me, like your mother.” His countenance changed into sheer hatred, and vitriol erupted from his mouth. “Some are destined to fall and die, and some survive. I will be _your executioner_ , Guy. I will watch you die like a circling vulture is waiting for the last breath of his victim.”

Guy looked into Vaisey’s hate-filled eyes without fright. He expected a killing blow in the chest and saw a triumphant smile spread over the sheriff’s face as the older man raised his sword. But no blow followed as a loud female scream coursed through the air. Isabella was advancing at Vaisey with her sword in her hand.

Isabella quickly crossed the distance between them. “Goddamn you, Lord Vaisey!” she shouted as she lunged at a slightly perplexed Vaisey. “I won’t let you kill Guy!”

Momentarily distracted from Guy, the sheriff rapidly swung around and blocked Isabella’s blow, evading the wound. “Little Isabella has paid a visit to us! I am glad to see you here, my leper tigress!” He swung his sword at her, but she easily dodged it.

Isabella parried Vaisey’s blows. “I won’t allow you to kill my brother,” she hissed, her eyes reflecting her hatred. “You destroyed our lives, and you will pay for that!”

Blamire instantly rushed to protect Vaisey. Guy was left alone for a moment, and he seized the chance. Gathering all his remaining strength, he clambered to his feet, looking around and searching for his weapon. Guy grabbed his own sword moments before Blamire could interfere in Isabella and Vaisey’s fight.

“Dear Isabella, did you like my cousin Thornton?” Vaisey asked as he swung his sword in an overhead blow, but she ducked. “He told me what he did to you on the wedding night and on many other nights.” He again slashed his sword at her, but she moved out of reach, dancing like a flower in the wind.

“I hate Thornton, but you repel me more, Vaisey.” Isabella gave a cry of rage and aimed a diagonal blow at the side of the sheriff’s neck. “I should have hated you instead of Guy.”

“What a spirited leper,” Vaisey remarked with a sneer as he deflected the blow.

Isabella of Gisborne was quite a proficient swordswoman, and she was able to fight with Vaisey rather easily. They enthusiastically exchanged a series of blows, battling unsuccessfully for dominance. She could have probably overpowered the sheriff if her attention wasn’t distracted by the Earl of Spenser and the Earl of Durham who walked in. Spenser and Durham paused, their countenances befuddled at the sight of Prince John’s mistress locked in the fight with Vaisey.

The sheriff used the opportunity and slashed at Isabella’s unprotected torso – the blade skewered her through the ribs. Isabella screamed as a tidal wave of fulgurating pain ripped through her right side; pain so intense that it stole her breath, and she gasped, her expression agonized. Holding her breath, Isabella glanced down and saw Vaisey’s sword in her side, her gown heavily stained with her own blood.

Blamire and Guy stopped fighting; Spenser and Durham froze at the doorway. All eyes were riveted on Isabella who moaned in pain and tumbled to the floor. Sneering at his victim’s demise, Vaisey leaned down and removed the blade, the metal stained crimson; he then showed it to Guy, laughing like the devil.

“Guy!” Isabella cried out in a pained voice.

Guy stood frozen next to Blamire; his face was as pale as death itself. “No,” he rasped.

“Another leper is dead,” Vaisey assumed with a bestial smile of satisfaction on his face. “Good because men's downfall happens due to the influence of lepers.”

“Congratulations, Lord Vaisey,” the Earl of Durham chanted. “You killed another leper.”

Spenser eyed Isabella’s supine form, his eyes overflowing with pity. “Lady Isabella is destined to die young. And she is so beautiful and could please many men in bed!”

“My dear Spenser and Durham, you are good friends,” Vaisey supplied in singsong tones. "Your arrival helped me deal with this leper.”

His heart pounding harder in dread, Guy strode to Isabella but was stopped by Blamire’s unexpected attack. In the next moment, Robin and Archer strode into the room and immediately rushed to the Earl of Spenser and the Earl of Durham who drew their swords to defend themselves. After Robin had noticed Guy near the battlements, he had left the king’s men in the courtyard and had gone to help him.

Seven Black Knights, who were still loyal to the deceased Sheridan, walked in. They all intended to escape with Vaisey, Blamire, Durham, and Spenser through the secret staircase leading to the underground tunnels, and then to walk out to the surface somewhere in Sherwood. The traitors launched a coordinated attack on Robin, Archer, and Guy.

Fighting a deadly battle with Blamire, Guy allowed himself to have only a small distraction as he stared at Robin who set himself into a sophisticated and beautiful swirl – his famous magical spin, swinging his scimitar in a deadly arc and slashing the chests of his three enemies during one swirl, just in a flash of light. Those three men instantly dropped dead on the floor, one of them the Earl of Spenser. Robin then thrust with his scimitar, slicing open the belly of the Earl of Durham, and in a moment, the man fell dead to the floor.

Blamire’s attention diverted to Robin. He had heard a lot about Robin’s outstanding fighting skills, but he had never imagined that Robin was so deadly with a sword. Robin moved with natural grace and beauty, and his scimitar was an extension of his arm. “Huntingdon is in a murderous rage,” Blamire estimated.

Guy’s attention drifted back to his opponent. “You are getting what you deserve.”

Robin’s exertions spurred Guy to greater efforts. Summoning the courage of not betraying his allegiance to the king and maintaining it no matter, he brought his weapon down in a vertical blow that almost sent Blamire to his knees, but the man didn’t lose his balance. His fury like a raging fire, Guy thrust his sword forward with massive force, his eyes wild and full of hate. Blamire was weary, his body tearing himself apart under the stress of the combat; holes were opening in his defenses faster than he could stitch them shut.

With a scream of rage, Guy sprang forward and ran his adversary through. “Die, Blamire,” he snarled. Blamire gurgled with blood and went still.

§§§

Guy examined the tower room, but he could see only corpses and a fallen Isabella, whose sight caused Guy‘s heart to constrict. “They are all dead,” he commented.

Robin stood a small distance from Vaisey, pointing the tip of his scimitar at the evil man. “Vaisey, you have lost,” he stated in an arctic tone, a morbid smile on his lips. “All the Black Knights have been defeated.”

Vaisey tilted his head quizzically. “You think you have won, Hood?”

Robin arched a brow. “And you think I haven’t, Vaisey?”

“Robin, my friend, tell me only one thing,” Vaisey croaked with a sneer. “Was your fight worth the lives of your manservant and your wife?”

“You will pay for their deaths,” Robin hissed, his fierce blue eyes glittering with hatred. “I paid a high price for my fight, but at least you will die today.”

Ignoring Robin’s tirade, Vaisey glanced at Guy, holding his hands behind his back. “Gizzy, was your betrayal worth the life of your sister?” He scoffed. “She probably loved you. After all, she saved your life.”

At the sight of Vaisey’s sneering face, Guy felt bile of disgust rising in his throat. “I am mourning for all those you murdered. But they died an honorable death.”

Archer approached Guy. “You are a demon, Vaisey, but this is your end.”

The sheriff regarded his enemies with a nocuous smile. Then he produced a crossbow from behind his back; he had grabbed it during the battle as he had watched Robin and the others kill his accomplices.

Vaisey sneered. “Hood, you are a marksman. You know how easily I can release the bolt, and it will be deadly.” His eyes oscillating between Guy and Archer, he pointed the crossbow at Robin. “Drop your weapons, or I will lose an arrow at him!”

“Be wary and stand back,” Robin cautioned as he put his bow and sword on the floor.

Guy and Archer automatically obeyed Robin and backed away from Vaisey, their expressions hateful, their eyes shooting daggers at Vaisey. Now they all were disarmed.

“Vaisey, you are the devil.” Robin looked around, his eyes stopping at the crossbow in the sheriff’s hands.

“You are a cruel monster,” Guy spat.

“I will gladly destroy you,” Vaisey hissed, his eyes glowing, “like I killed Hood’s annoying manservant. It seems his name was Much.”

Robin’s features contorted in sheer hatred, his eyes narrowed to slits like a feline’s. “I hate you so much, Vaisey. I should have killed you months ago, before Acre and before you destroyed the people I loved.”

Robin would have advanced forward if Archer didn’t grab his arm. “Robin, cool off your head. You are not helping,” Archer chided.

“There are no words to describe how much I hate you.” Robin was shuddering in rage that was echoing through his mind like the roar of a great giant lion.

“Vaisey, you destroyed too many lives,” Guy continued, his hatred for his former master scratching at his insides. “You caused my mother’s disgrace. You deceived me throughout many years, taught me to kill, and brutalized me.” He swung his gaze to Robin. “Robin, Marian, and Meg helped me break from the darkness where I existed for years.” His gaze slid back to Vaisey. “I hate you as much as perhaps even Robin doesn’t.”

Seeing Guy’s control slip away, Archer grabbed Guy’s arm. “Guy, control your emotions.”

Vaisey chuckled. “Boys, I will say my bloody goodbye to you.” He drew back the bowstring and aimed an arrow towards Robin’s chest. “I am going to start with you, Hood. Heroes always come first.” He laughed perniciously. “Repentant sinners follow heroes in death, and then go opportunists.”

“Vaisey, I am not dead yet,” Isabella’s weak voice resonated. Summoning the rest of her wilting strength, Isabella extracted a dagger from her ankle sheath. “I am taking you with me.” She then hurled it at Vaisey.

The sheriff groaned in pain, and he saw Isabella’s dagger flying right into him. He ducked in time, but his neck was scratched, and he felt his own blood on his palm.

“Isabella,” Guy murmured, surprised that his sister was still alive. He turned his head to her; his eyes met hers for a brief moment, and she smiled at him vaguely.

The sheriff broke into a vicious laughter. “Little Isabella, you are as stupid as your brother. It is just a scratch, my fading leper. I still have the time to kill them and flee.”

Robin wished to use the chance and attack Vaisey, but the sheriff was too quick. Vaisey again targeted Robin, snickering, while the others stood somber and silent.

“The blade may be rusty, Lord Vaisey,” Isabella warned cryptically.

“What?” Guy’s eyes oscillated between Vaisey and Isabella.

Archer looked amazed. “What does that mean?”

Fear was creeping into Vaisey’s heart. “It is just a scratch,” he reiterated. His face was ghostly white, as if an infernal creature had drained his blood.

“Vaisey, you have merited death and eternal damnation,” Isabella asserted. “One drop of poison in your bloodstream is enough. You will be dead before sundown.”

A desperate panic was spilling through the sheriff’s veins. “That cannot be true.”

Archer and Guy stared at Vaisey in amazement, both of them reeling with shock.

Robin closely studied the dagger on the floor. As his eyes fell on the Plantagenet emblem on the jeweled hilt of the dagger, he thundered a cynical laugh, the sound thickening with saturnine, yet victorious, emotions of their ultimate triumph over Vaisey. He didn’t know how Isabella had managed to obtain Melisende’s dagger, but he was glad that someone had finally outwitted the crafty and black-hearted villain. Melisende’s spirit was safeguarding Robin and the others even from a grave.

Guy and Archer gazed at Robin anxiously; Vaisey’s eyes were darting between the hero and Isabella. Vaisey’s shoulders slumped in defeat and couldn’t stifle a loud sigh of dismay, but he continued standing straight, targeting Robin from his bow.

A bewildered Guy shook his head. “What did you see there, Robin?”

“What is going on?” Archer inquired.

Robin grinned malignantly. “Isabella wounded Vaisey with my wife’s poisoned-tipped dagger.”

The sheriff furrowed. “Impossible.”

Archer and Guy turned to Isabella, and a slight shake of the head was her answer.

Repressing a moan of pain, Isabella raised her head, a gloating smile on her face. She had taken her revenge on Vaisey, and her wrath was pacified. “This is indeed Lady Melisende’s dagger. I took it from her when she was already dead.”

In a voice tinged with dread, Vaisey rumbled, “You are lying.”

“No, I am not,” Isabella assured him. “I know many secrets of the Plantagenet family, for example about Lady Melisende’s poisoned dagger and about the Plantagenet poison. John uses this poison to get rid of his enemies. I took the dagger from Lady Melisende before coming here.”

A deathly hush settled over the room, and all that could be heard was Vaisey’s labored breathing. Isabella went still, and it was unclear whether she was still alive.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah! Vaisey, you have been poisoned!” Robin taunted, his lips curved in an acrid smile. “This really ends here. Your sister is waiting for you in hell.”

“This is amazing,” Guy said shortly.

Archer feigned regret. “Ah, Lord Vaisey! This is so bad! You are a dead man walking!”

The sheriff recollected his spirits and retorted with an air of devilment, "La di da di da, my friends. If I am doomed, I won’t spare you. I will have a glorious company in death, my boys.”  Still aiming at Robin, he prepared to fire an arrow; he wasn’t going to die without an attempt to take revenge.

The door flung open, and Marian emerged at the doorway; Megan stood right behind her. Concerned about Robin and Guy, the brave ladies had decided to find the two men who were apparently going to tempt fate and settle scores with the sheriff and the rest of the Black Knights. After a long and unsuccessful search and Marian’s final realization that the sheriff would try to escape, they had ended up in the tower room.

Marian’s best instincts didn’t deceive her. She always felt when Robin was in danger, and she had always saved him when he had been captured by the sheriff’s guards. This time, she had _a sacred mission to fulfill today – to save Robin, England, and the others_.

Marian and Megan moved apart. It was Marian’s plan: they had to put some distance between each other, so that Vaisey had too many people to watch in the same room and his vigilance became useless. Megan was mystified as to what the other woman was going to do, but she acted as Marian had enjoined her. It occurred to Marian that they stood too close to the battlements and had to be careful.

“Why should we wait until sunset, Lord Vaisey?” Marian enunciated coldly. “We can send you to the pits of hell now.” She held the scimitar behind her back.

Vaisey cackled. “What a nice meeting, my leper friend! Welcome to my festival of death!”

Marian’s soft voice spoke with a calm evenness of intonation peculiar for a woman facing Lucifer in the flesh. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” She would destroy the demon of Nottingham, Marian thought as she steered towards Vaisey. Her impassive countenance showed no vengeful disposition towards the man, although her eyes shone with a strange luminescence akin to a sign of some unspeakable knowledge.

The sheriff dismissed his concerns about Marian. “My little missy, you will witness the deaths of your two lovers and the passing of their half-brother.”

“Marian,” Megan said, her brows knitting together.

“Meg, you know what to do,” Marian urged as she took another step towards the fiend.

“Stay there, lepers! Or I will kill Hood!” Vaisey threatened. He peered at the two women balefully. “This is so great! Two lepers will witness the demise of Hoodie, Gizzy, and Archy!”

The sheriff’s vitriolic tirades drove Marian to the verge of insanity. A stream of bloodlust broke its dam deep within her soul; nothing could soften her pitiless mood – only Vaisey’s death could. Emotions tumbled through her in a sanguineous frenzy, and an implacable hatred was devouring her from within. She could feel the frantic beat of her own heart as she took another step forward, heading to the man she hated with every fibre of her being, with the single-minded resolution to obliterate him.

Guy and Archer’s expressions were surprised. They saw Megan’s reassuring nod, as well as a small smile on her face but still failed to understand the meaning.

“Marian, please don’t do anything reckless,” Guy exhorted; he then felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder.

“Shut up, Guy.” Robin had already figured out Marian’s plan. Guy didn’t know Marian as well as Robin: her undaunted expression told him what she was up to.

Vaisey let out a laugh. “Shall we start?” He pulled back the bow string.

“You are a damned fiend, Vaisey!” Megan shrilled, and Vaisey’s eyes darted to her.

As the sheriff’s attention was diverted away from Robin for a moment, Archer unfastened a small bag of coins from his belt and then threw it at Vaisey to ensure that the sheriff wouldn’t shoot Robin, which caused Vaisey to drop the crossbow. Marian was near the sheriff in several strides and rapidly drew her sword.

Marian’s eyes didn’t waver as she plunged the blade into Vaisey’s stomach with a deft movement of her hand. At first, Vaisey was baffled as to what had just eventuated, and the bow slipped to the floor. Marian reflexively pulled the sheriff to herself, and they froze in a tight embrace of death and doom. The cold, sharp Damascus steel penetrated the evil man’s abdomen almost without resistance, and Vaisey was impaled on the sword that pierced him through.

“No!” a horrified Vaisey screamed, his eyes bulging like a caricature of themselves. He blanched as the comprehension dawned upon him; he felt searing pain in his abdomen.

The picture before their eyes was unbelievable, and everyone stared in shocked awe at Vaisey locked in a deathly embrace with the daughter of the previous sheriff.

“Marian,” Guy whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Archer was as astonished as Guy. “Oh, my God! She has finished him off.”

Megan sighed with relief. “At least he is no longer dangerous.”

Robin groused, “Hell is his new home.”

Looking into Vaisey’s eyes, Marian mocked, “What a mordant sense of humor fate has! _The festival of pain has begun, and you are the main actor!_ ” Her face was an epitome of intransigent hatred that took her beyond the natural limitations of a human being and converted her into an avenging angel. “I hope God will forgive me for this act of violence, although I doubt He will absolve you.”

“You,” the sheriff muttered in a dazed shock; waves of pain were ripping his insides to shreds.

Smiling gleefully, Marian gritted out, “Isabella started the deed, and I finished it. I stabbed you with Robin’s old scimitar. You wounded Robin with this sword in Acre.”

A shaken Vaisey looked down at the sword in his gut. “I underestimated you, leper.”

Marian disentangled herself from the demon and stepped aside. As she eyed Vaisey impaled on the Saracen curved sword, she didn’t feel any remorse.

Vaisey wanted to scream in rage but was paralyzed by the monstrous pain that racked his midsection. “Ghislane,” he gasped. Then he staggered backwards and fell down from the battlements.

As Vaisey was falling from the tower, the name – Ghislane – resounded in the air like trumpets from heaven. The sheriff landed on the canopy that hung over the front entrance; then he continued his fall and at last landed on the front steps of the castle, where Robin of Locksley had executed Lord Walter Sheridan an hour ago. A silence fell in the courtyard; the battle was officially over.

They heard female footsteps and turned to the door. Fury billowed through Robin, Guy, and Archer as their eyes riveted on Rebecca who stood at the doorway, staring dumbly at the carnage. Marian and Megan blinked in befuddlement, clueless as to what Kate’s mother was doing in the tower room.

“Hood,” Rebecca spat with venom.

“Rebecca,” Robin hissed like a venomous snake, a volcano of rage in him erupting in a fountain of scarlet. “I heard what you did to my wounded father.”

Marian and Megan gasped in absolute terror, looking at Robin who nodded a confirmation. Archer was silent, glowering at Rebecca and waiting for a signal to act – a struggle, a dispute, or an attack.

Guy demanded, “Surrender, you murderess! Your master, Vaisey, is dead.”

An ashen-faced Rebecca somewhat recovered from the initial shock. Her eyes blazed at Guy for an instant, and her lips trembled as she uttered, “Lord Vaisey is dead?”

Marian announced, “Yes, he is. He must have had a good fall.”

Rebecca cried out, “No! You are lying to me! We agreed to meet here!”

Guy connected the dots. “Rebecca, did the sheriff invite you to watch the deaths of Robin, Archer, and me in this room? Did he offer you to escape later?”

“Damn you, Gisborne,” Rebecca cursed. “Lord Vaisey will crush you! Your minutes are numbered!”

Marian interposed, “It seems that you, Rebecca, are the spy who divulged our plan for the battle of Pontefract to the sheriff. You are complicit in Much’s murder!”

At the mention of Much, Robin’s temper ratcheted up a notch, but he reined it in, though with colossal effort. “Rebecca, I have made my mind. You will face the king’s justice.”

Guy and Archer slanted curious glances in Robin’s direction; then they both nodded. Marian and Megan dipped their heads in agreement as well.

That provoked a caustic laugh from Rebecca. “Stop lying, you dirty outlaw! Your father was a coward who was hiding for years in fear of being recognized, and you are like him! No, you are worse – you are a doormat because you won’t win the battle with Lord Vaisey!” Her eyes traversed the room, picking up every detail. As her gaze fell on Blamire’s corpse, the first prickling of dread roamed along her skin like a hundred ants. But she refused to believe that the guileful and mighty sheriff was dead.

Guy barked, “Save your disparaging remarks about Lord Malcolm and Robin for the devil whom you will meet after your execution.”

“She should be hanged, drawn, and quartered,” Marian averred.

“Death is her sentence,” Megan agreed.

“Rebecca, you are a weed to be plucked from the earth,” an incensed Archer gritted out. Unexpectedly for him, it was a moment of righteous fury that this villainess had stolen his chance to ever know his father.

Rebecca drew her dagger from the scabbard on her hip, her eyes bestial and full of panic. “Robin Hood couldn’t defeat Lord Vaisey! You are lying to me!”

Robin’s ice blue glare pierced Rebecca.  “I was hoping you would realize that the sheriff is dead as Guy, Archer, and I are still alive, and that arrest is your fate.” He shot her a half-derisive, half-hateful glance. “I wonder if you will be as proud and confident while standing at the gallows once King Richard learns from Guy and me that you conspired with Vaisey and passed on information to him, regularly and secretly. The king will also be interested in your latest crime – the murder of my father in cold blood.”

Archer declared, “You won’t get away with killing our father!” His statement earned him a glance of approval from his two half-brothers.

Brandishing her dagger, a defiant Rebecca stipulated, “There are conditions for your survival. Let me leave in peace, or I will take one of you with me to hell.”

“Never!” Guy hissed; the others nodded.

Robin stood protectively ahead of Marian. “Surrender now, Rebecca!”

“Vaisey forced me to help; he threatened my children,” Rebecca lied.

Robin shook his head. “You won’t wheedle your way out.”

Rebecca stared at Robin. “Robin Hood, hear the truth! Your father was a womanizer who could sleep with anything with a faint pulse. Malcolm put asunder multiple marriages and could keep several mistresses at the same time.”

Rebecca’s astringent words had their effect. A glitter of ire in his eyes, Robin bellowed, “Don’t blacken my father’s memory! He was a kind and good man, and he loved me! That’s all that matters to me!”

As there was no retreat left for her, Rebecca vowed revenge. “I was beautiful in youth, and Malcolm seduced me. He availed himself of all my lovely charms before discarding me like all others. He was going to marry Lady Ghislaine.” She paused and briefly glared at Guy; then her gaze slid back to Robin. “Kate was born in seven months after my marriage to Eadwine. Malcolm never knew that he has a daughter.”

Archer, Marian, and Megan were speechless; they didn’t know what to say, and words were more ghastly than facts. Guy was shaking his head and sighing.

“Kate is your sister, Hood!” Rebecca squawked. “My husband hated Kate and me! After learning that our first child was not his, he abused me like filth. He often beat me and raped me, kicking me out of the bed after satisfying his needs. I couldn't say no because if I did he would take it anyway, saying that I had to obey as his wife. This is how Matthew and Maggie, my two other kids, were conceived.”

“Rebecca, give me your dagger,” Robin adjured as he stepped to her.

Rebecca was waving her weapon in a warning manner. “No, Hood!” Her eyes glistened like a hyena’s. “Malcolm led me to perdition on earth, and you will pay for that!”

Guy stated, “You have gone mad, Rebecca.”

Rebecca rolled out her words so that everyone could hear them. “Die, Hood!”

With a growl of fury, Rebecca flung the dagger at Robin who instantly pushed Marian to the floor, and then landed on top of her, shielding her from the peril. Robin and Marian successfully evaded the attack.

“R0bin! Marian!” A scared Megan dashed to them.

Archer and Guy were advancing at Rebecca who was retreating to the battlements. With something akin to repugnance, Rebecca perceived a new reality: she was trapped like a wild animal, but she was going to retaliate even though she was stalemated, even after her failure to murder Robin. As she noticed that Robin aided Marian to her feet while Megan stood near the two of them, she devised a plan.

Her whole being burning with a blind, rancorous hatred, Rebecca came to a stop near Blamire’s corpse with a hiss. She crouched and grabbed Blamire’s long curved sword, smiling at the thought that she would kill Gisborne’s fiancée before Guy and Archer detained her. As Rebecca raised her hand to throw the weapon at Megan, a silver blur flashed in her direction, and Megan’s sword embedded itself into her chest.

Although mortally wounded, Kate’s mother parted her parched lips and whispered, “I hate Malcolm.” Then she sprawled on the floor, dead along with other traitors.

As he looked at Megan who had just saved herself, Guy could see enormous relief behind the mournfulness of her features. “Meg!” he called.

“Guy!” Megan exclaimed, and then rushed to her betrothed. Guy gathered her into his arms and held her tight, burying his face in the curve of her neck.

Robin stood near the battlement, looking down. He noticed that the canopy above the front steps was no longer there, but he didn’t pay attention to that. He could see Vaisey on the steps and King Richard who stood nearby. The king’s knights hurried to the front steps, staring at the sheriff in startled awe.

Marian was a little far from Robin, staring into space. She was somewhat frightened by the relish at the thought that she had annihilated the demon of Nottingham in a more brutal than she had taken Jasper of Ashton’s life months ago. Marian was more shocked with Rebecca’s treachery than with Vaisey’s murder.

Archer looked between Marian and Robin. “Now it is over.”

Marian nodded. “It is over.”

“Are you alright, Marian?” Archer asked with concern.

She swallowed heavily. “Yes, I am.”

Robin locked his gaze with Marian’s for a split second, but she was able to decipher the raw pain in his pale blue eyes she had liked so much.

“Is it really over?” he inquired with detachment.

“Yes, Robin,” Marian said softly. She comprehended that Robin was broken by the cruel, terrifying world and by all the tragedies that had just happened. Suddenly, she was conscious of an overmastering desire to engulf Robin into her arms, to comfort him, to appease his pain, and to ease some of his burdens, but it was not appropriate.

“I don’t think so,” Robin said in a hollow voice. “It will never be over.”

Archer shuffled his feet in discomfort. “Robin, did Rebecca tell us the truth about our father?”

Robin gazed into Archer’s eyes. “You are my brother, Archer; I have no reason to lie to you.” A sigh tumbled from his lips. “Rebecca hated our father and obviously painted him in the worst light possible. He made many mistakes, and he regretted that. Our father was a man like others: most nobles keep mistresses and paramours, many of them openly, and many… sleep with their serfs. Many have illegitimate children.” He paused, thinking that Archer and he were both illegitimate in actuality, but his brother didn’t need to know the truth. “The only thing that matters is that our father loved us.”

Archer inclined his head in agreement. “Thank you, Robin.”

“I agree with you, Robin.” Hurt and jealousy lanced through Marian as she thought that Robin had been with other women before his marriage to Melisende, when he hadn’t been betrothed to her. Robin would have more lovers in the future, she mused bitterly. As she throttled her jealousy, she continued, “Let Lord Malcolm rest in peace.”

Robin and Archer chorused, “God rest our father’s soul.”

Megan slipped out of Guy’s embrace and walked to the place where Isabella lay. She addressed everyone, “We need to go to Isabella.”

At the thought of his poor sister, Guy felt an inward blow in his chest. “Yes.”

§§§

Megan and Guy knelt by Isabella’s recumbent form. The woman was still alive, but it was clear that she wouldn’t last long as she had lost too much blood. Megan took Isabella’s head in her hands and cradled it. Guy took Isabella‘s hand in his, as he endeavored to perceive a new reality – a world without his sister. Then Robin and Archer appeared behind them; Guy shared with them glances of sorrow and then peered at his sister. Marian stood beside Megan, but she decided not to interfere.

Isabella opened her eyes. “Guy,” she called in a quivering voice.

“I am sorry, Isabella,” Guy apologized, tears shining in his eyes. “I sold you to Squire Thornton without thinking of what he could do to you. I was a bad brother to you, Bella.”

“You couldn’t know that, brother.” Isabella raised her hand to Guy’s face and caressed his cheek. “Can you forgive me for… causing you pain when you were imprisoned?”

“Yes,” Guy said sincerely. “And can you forgive me for selling you to Thornton?”

Isabella dragged an excruciating inhalation. “I love you, Guy. Of course, I forgive you.”

Guy smiled softly. “I love you too, Bella.”

Isabella looked between Megan and Guy. “I wish you happiness together.”

Her spirit affected by grief, Megan wept, “Thank you, Isabella.”

“Thank you, sister.” Guy brushed away a lock of hair from Isabella’s forehead.

Isabella turned her gaze to Robin. “Lord Huntingdon, I need your forgiveness for my misdeed in Acre.”

Robin managed a small smile. “You have it, Lady Isabella.”

As Isabella gazed back at her brother, a sense of wistfulness spread over her countenance. “Guy, I will tell our mother that you have become a good man.”

A fat tear trickled down Guy’s face. “Isabella… Bella…”

In a few heartbeats, the door opened, and the king’s men entered. Roger de Lacy, Robert de Beaumont, and Carter of Stretton paused at the doorway. Then Roger de Tosny appeared behind them.

“Isabella!” A horrified de Tosny ran to the mortally wounded woman, and the crowd that had gathered near Prince John’s mistress parted. “Isabella!”

“She saved my life from the sheriff, but then he… killed her,” Guy elucidated.

De Tosny beheld Isabella in horror. "Holy mother of God! Not Isabella, not her!"

Isabella smiled at Roger. “Sir Roger, you have come to me,” she murmured.

De Tosny knelt by her and touched her cheek. “Isabella, I am so sorry.”

“It is alright. I will be free soon.” Isabella’s face was serene, and there was no hatred in her eyes. “Sir Roger, can you do something for me?”

“Whatever you want,” de Tosny answered.

“Kiss me one last time before I die,” Isabella requested, her eyes gleaming with a pleading luster of tears.

De Tosny kissed Isabella on the lips. It was an ardent kiss, but it was short. “I have not forgotten you, Isabella,” he avouched, staring into her eyes.

“I could love you, Roger,” Isabella whispered with a languorous smile. She shut her eyes, and her heart ceased beating. Her whole world was shrouded in inky darkness, and her soul flew to freedom in eternity.

A bereft Guy bowed his head, feeling like the bone denuded of the flesh. “Be at peace, my sister."

“May God rest her soul,” de Tosny prayed; tears stung his eyes.

Unable to look at the two grieving men sitting near a dead Isabella, Robin stepped to the battlements. Now, after the subjugation of the town, the veil of numbness fell away, and he began to feel the pain for the loss of his father and his wife. The heartrending visions of Much and Melisende dying in his arms sent a shudder of dread through him, as well as a wave of grief which could engulf the world.

Robin stood quiet for a long moment, staring into emptiness. He was holding his breath, trying to bite back the tears that threatened to fall and drown him as his soul mourned all his losses. The sun was high in the sky, but it was as cold as the pitch-black coffin of abysmal heartbreak which encompassed his entire being. Robin could see Nottingham surrounded by small hills, the vast expanse of his own lands, his gaze lingering on snow-covered fields and orchards, and cottages and huts dotted on the slopes. It was his homeland, but Robin was not happy to be here at the moment.

“Robin,” Marian called him gently as she stopped next to him.

Robin didn’t want to talk to her; she was the last person whose company he needed now. She addressed him again, but he didn’t react.

“Robin,” Marian repeated again, taking a step to him.

Robin turned his head to Marian and eyed her from top to toe; his heart thumped harder. She obviously had discarded her winter cloak, and now she looked beautiful in her plain blue gown with a high neckline; there was the large stain of Vaisey’s blood on the front of her dress. She was vulnerable and distressed, and her eyes were so strikingly blue and clearly despondent; her beautiful face was tinctured with a funereal shade of tragedies. Robin shouldn’t peruse Marian with such feverish intensity! Cataracts of stinking shame poured down onto him, and Robin averted his eyes.

Marian breathed out, “Robin, how are you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said in a distant, trembling voice, not looking at her. “I am not dead, and you don’t need to bid a farewell to me like you did in Acre.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she blurted out, feeling the impulse to flee.

A twinge of guilt passed through him, and Robin flitted his gaze to her. “You don’t have to leave,” he said, his expression grim and penitent. “I am sorry… It is just difficult.”

She whispered plaintively, “I understand. What can I do for you, Robin?”

“You have already done enough. You killed the sheriff, and I owe you.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You owe me nothing.”

Robin shoved a hand through his sandy hair. He had an outbreak of anger at himself and of despair in subdued tones. “Marian, you have completed Robin Hood’s mission; you have achieved what I have failed to do. I should have killed the sheriff a long time ago, but I played games and enjoyed the thrill of adventure. I also was a naïve fool to think that I can win this war without bloodshed.”

Marian paled. “Robin, you shouldn’t blame yourself for not killing him!”

“I should,” he insisted. “But now it is a waste of time to discuss it.”

“Robin, please–” She broke off abruptly. She didn’t know what words would offer him consolation.

The chasmal grief over the murders of Much and Melisende awakened guilt in him.  “If I had killed the sheriff before the siege, my wife and my best friend would have been alive now.”

Marian heard the deep-rooted pain in his every word and in the tremble of his voice, and her heart constricted like a hand was squeezing it in her chest. “I killed Vaisey to save Guy, Archer, and you,” she spoke in most sincere tones. “Mostly, I killed him for you, for your wife, and for Much.”

Robin trembled all over as a myriad of woeful thoughts of Much and Melisende again paraded across his mind, augmenting the nearly agonizing heartache in his ruined spirit. He felt ashamed of himself, of his inability to save his wife and his friend, but Marian’s words also deeply touched him.

He commended, “Today you have been so brave and fearless. You are a warrior, and you have embraced your destiny! I am very proud of you!”

Marian’s heart pounded as she promulgated fervidly, “Robin, I couldn’t allow the sheriff to murder you again. If he had killed you, it would have been too much to bear.”

Marian’s sincere words percolated the depths of Robin’s bleeding heart. At that moment, Robin realized that in the forthcoming years of his widowerhood, he would be mourning for his wife, but there would be minutes when Marian's face and her voice would haunt his memory, burning him inside and out like a blacksmith’s forge. His fancy for Marian might seem distant, like a childhood recollection, but unlike most long ago reminisces, there would always be a clarity in his memories of her; perhaps it was the intensity of his rapturous, steadfast feelings for this woman whom he had loved as a youth.

Sometimes Robin would imagine that he would sit in the shade of one of the great trees in Sherwood, and a fantasy of making love to Marian – of joining with her as a husband – would color his mind with exquisite, yet raw, emotions. He would have an ethereal vision of Marian and himself sitting at the Locksley table, smiling serenely, and that would cause his heart to ache. Love birds on a branch outside of his window would only remind him of how alone and apart Robin was from those around him.

One day, Robin’s love for Marian would emerge like a phoenix from the ashes of his heart.  He could not deny that his feelings for Marian flowed as effortlessly and naturally as the swift and unrelenting currents of the River Trent. It was almost an instinctive connection which they shared. At one time, Robin had truly believed that Marian’s betrayal – her marriage to Guy – had destroyed their love. But like a frozen river in the dead of winter, deep currents of passion and affection had never really stopped flowing between them.  He was beginning to understand that now. He would never be able to renounce his love for Marian, and the river of their lives continued surging towards an unknown ocean.

But even if one day he decided to join himself in blissful matrimony with Marian, there would always be one corner of his heart which would belong to Melisende. His wife was a great woman of love, death, and doom, who loved England’s greatest hero and had sacrificed herself for him. Their beloved son, Richard, was Melisende’s legacy, and he was as much part of Robin’s life as his beating heart.

Robin’s thoughts about his short marriage could be expressed in these words, but there was one aspect of his wife’s character which would forever haunt his memories: the unfathomable distance Melisende maintained despite all the love and care she had given him. With great sadness and frustration, he acknowledged that there was much about Melisende which he didn’t know, and now, could never know.  The unexpected possibilities of the mystery of his tragically deceased wife would abide within Robin forever.  Memories of Melisende would become like an elaborate mausoleum: a beautiful and majestic façade with a shadowy and unknowable interior.

In the coming years, Robin anticipated his return to Aquitaine. Of all the places in the world, it would evoke the strongest recollections of his wife. He would always feel her presence in the splendid chambers and halls at court. Future feasts would be filled with the racket of convivial shouts and rolling laughter. But Robin knew that he would remain aloof from such merriment. His dull and solemn demeanor would be the legacy of his bereavement for the beautiful, enigmatic Melisende Plantagenet.

Robin uttered deplorably, “If I had died today, life would go on without me.”

Robin stood so close to her that Marian felt tiny shivers – not of cold but of Robin’s breath – flickering through her cheeks and down her neck. He brought his hand to her face and traced the line of her cheek with a provokingly slow movement, deliberately and almost ritualistically pouring a great amount of innate tenderness in his touch. Yet, there was no passion in that gesture, only delicacy.

Marian fluttered her eyelashes, and she entreated in earnest, “No! I beg of you, don’t say that! The world would have never been the same without you! Light would have faded without you!”

He took his hand away from her face. “Perhaps,” he pondered halfheartedly.

She stiffened at the lack of emotion in his voice in response to her almost confession of her feelings, but she comprehended that she couldn’t expect anything else from him. “I am sorry that your wife died.”

Robin released a sigh. “Melisende is in a better place.”

Marian was relieved that he didn’t talk about dying himself instead of his wife. “Robin, she will always be in your heart. Her life will continue in your son and through her gift to England – your life saved by her.”

Robin’s heart thudded in his chest at the memory of his son, Richard, whom they had been hiding in Aquitaine while waiting for the king’s return. “My son is everything to me.”

“Your son needs you, Robin. You must live for him,” King Richard’s voice came as though a thick mist, as their liege had approached them from the back.

Robin automatically bowed, and Marian sank into a deep, gracious curtsey. The king waved his hand and dismissed them from formalities.

“You are right, sire,” Robin agreed in a lifeless voice. “I will live for my son.”

The king claimed, “Melisende would have wanted you to be happy with your son.”

Robin gave a nod. “I know.” The corners of his mouth twitched miserably as he continued, “I would have wanted to live with illusions, imagining that today’s tragedies mean nothing to me, but I cannot.”

Richard asked solicitously, “What is going on in your head, Robin?”

Robin was buffeted by a hurricane of wrecking emotions. “Illusions spare us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasantries of the world.” He swallowed hard. “But I am no longer Robin of Locksley, or Robin Hood who believed in many meaningless things, like the idea of a free Englishman. Dreams and illusions always collide with reality, against which they are smashed to pieces. This is exactly what happened to Robin Hood and his fight for peace and justice. It was a doomed fight from the start.”

“Evil cannot be eradicated – never ever,” Richard articulated philosophically, looking into Robin’s eyes. “Things that people and society reject as evil and vile, such as selfishness, obsession, ambition, and cruelty, are of primitive nature, and they will always be a large part of the world.”

Marian chimed in, “My life also filled with illusions for long, and it was a hard path for me to realize that it is better to be a realist. But some illusions are not worthless if they serve the greater good.” She focused her gaze on Robin, and her lips slightly parted as she leaned towards him, then touched his shoulder gently. “Robin Hood and his cause are not futile because his fight has already made a great difference.”

Robin lamented, “But my loss is too great.”

“Yet, it is not a worthless fight,” she insisted; she took her hand away.

Richard attempted to assuage the distress of his distraught half-brother. “Be prepared for war because peace is never eternal. But you can achieve peace in a realm you can control, within your own lands.”

“I know, and I have accepted that,” Robin admitted.

Richard advised, “Robin, you must make peace with the world and with yourself, even though your loss is great. Otherwise, you will destroy yourself.”

The king’s velvet voice was a balm to Robin’s wounds. “I will try,” he murmured.

Robin bowed, and Richard granted him the permission to leave.

Robin Hood was _a broken man_. In the thrall of despair, he coveted to leave Nottingham, but he didn’t know where to go, feeling as if he were a bird with a broken wing that was reeling, fluttering, circling, and, finally, falling to the ground. There was no place that could give him peace at this very tragic moment. The world suddenly seemed unreal, evil always triumphing over good, over all the breathing creatures on earth.

Robin quitted the room together with Robert de Beaumont and Carter of Stretton, who had waited for him; then they followed Robin. For a short while, King Richard and Marian stood in grinding silence.

“And what will happen to Robin?” Marian asked in a shaky voice at last.

“Robin is a strong and courageous man,” Richard assessed with conviction. “He is hurting deeply, and he doesn’t want others to intrude on his grief. Over time, the pain will subside, and he will accept his loss. Then he will move on, although it won’t be easy for him.”

Hot tears sprang into her eyes, and a darkness of pain and affliction was swirling in her deepest recesses. “What happened is… terrible…” The words struck in her throat. “I have never seen Robin so devastated.”

The king took a step to Marian and gently gripped her hand in his. “I will take care of him.”

“Thank you, milord,” she whispered, letting herself relax.

Richard scrutinized Marian, thinking that she looked like a heartbroken forest nymph, her cheeks streaked with tears. “You are welcome, Lady Marian.”

Marian dissolved into tears.  At this very moment, she was not a warrior woman but only a lonely relic of a devoured, yet not forgotten, erstwhile life which was still alive in the depths of her heart. As tears flowed from her eyes, her expression imbued with the sting of boundless grief, Richard deeply emphasized with her; he gathered her into his arms protectively. For some time, she sobbed into his chest, but when she realized that she was in the king’s embrace, she berated herself for being vulnerable.

She extricated herself from Richard’s embrace, and he let her go, knowing what she felt. “I am sorry, milord,” she murmured, her eyes cast down.

“Don’t worry, Lady Marian,” the king soothed with a warm, yet rueful, smile. He changed the subject. “Lord Vaisey’s fall was broken by the canopy that hung right above the front steps.”

Marian frowned. “The sheriff used it for protection from the sun and rain when he stood on the steps, making theatrical speeches about executions and taxes.”

Richard smirked. “Fate has played a joke with Vaisey.”

“Sire?” She didn’t understand what he meant.

Smiling with iron-hearted satisfaction, the monarch enlightened, “The sheriff hit the canopy and then continued falling, and finally landed on the front steps. Thus, the wallop wasn’t as strong as it could have been, so Vaisey didn’t die on impact. He has many broken bones, but he is still alive.”

A look of disconcertion manifested on her face. “He was poisoned. He will die anyway.”

Richard laughed spitefully. “Djaq says that he will die if we take the scimitar out of his body.” His smile grew wider. “But when I learned about the poisoning, I ordered to not remove the blade so as to have him die a slow, painful death from the poison, with the sword driven into his stomach.”

She dipped her head in agreement. “It is fair; he deserves a brutal end.”

He nodded. “Lord Vaisey was killed by Lady Isabella and you.”

Her tears gone, she said firmly, “I am glad that I took his life.”

After a moment’s pause, the Lionheart unexpectedly said, “Lady Marian, give Robin some time to mourn, and then I will help you to be reunited. Robin is my brother, and I wish him only happiness.” He guessed why Marian had been invited to a dying Melisende, and he approved of his cousin’s intention.

 Marian looked at him uncomprehendingly. “What?”

Richard communicated, “Robin’s feelings for you are unwavering; not even his passing can erase them.”

“But Lady Melisende…” She couldn’t pronounce anything else.

“His love for you runs deeper than for my cousin,” the king disclosed the truth. “For a long time, I wondered whether Melisende could make Robin love her as deeply as he has always loved you. He loved many qualities of hers, but he didn’t know her well. And from what she showed him, _Melisende couldn’t coax immortal devotion_.”

Abashed amazement flickered in the depths of the sapphire blue eyes. “My liege, I...”

“Eventually, you and Robin will be happy.” He frowned as he ordained, “Just don’t create any wedge between you and him again, for example by your guilt and your pride-dictated actions.”

Marian blinked back a sudden rush of tears. "Robin is the love of my life.”

“You have to be patient, then.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed in most vibrant tones. “I have been waiting for him for years, half of my life! It is my fate to always be under his spell!”

“But the waiting is worth it.” Richard saw the deep love for his half-brother glittering in her eyes, and he was gladdened by the thought that Robin had a future ahead.

Marian and Richard lapsed into silence as Prince John’s scream of horror echoed through the room. A hush fell all around them, while Guy of Gisborne and Roger de Tosny climbed to their feet, staring at the prince. A heartbroken John dropped to his knees near his dead mistress. The startled audience stared at the prince, for nobody expected such a frank display of emotions from a philanderer like John.

This day was a time of great sacrifices and bereavements. The impressions of the day were so vivid that they would never morph into memories fleeting across the pages of time and space.

§§§

The sun had settled behind Sherwood Forest, and darkness blanketed the town of Nottingham that was now patrolled by the king’s men, who were cleaning the central courtyard from corpses. Almost all of the Black Knights were killed in the battle, and there was nobody to be executed tomorrow.

King Richard commanded to leave Vaisey’s body on the fronts steps of the castle until the vile man drew his last breath. During several hours, Vaisey tolerated the unbearable pain from the poison that was slowly destroying him and from the wound in his stomach. Wilting like a weed and writhing in agony, he was begging to remove the sword out of his flesh, but the king’s men obeyed their liege’s order and let the demon of Nottingham meet his gruesome death in agonizing torments.

Neither Robin nor Guy went to see Vaisey in his last moments. Richard and John together approached Vaisey before his death, and ordered that nobody stay close while they talked to the dying villain; no one knew what the Plantagenet brothers told the sheriff. Vaisey died at sundown from the poison, with Robin’s scimitar still driven deeply into his abdomen. His body would be quartered and every part hanged on each of the gates of Nottingham; Sheridan’s corpse suffered the same fate as Vaisey’s.

Vaisey’s corpse was beheaded, and his head was impaled on a spike and placed before the entrance to the castle. Next to the sheriff’s head, there was Sheridan’s head on a spike. The public display of the traitors’ bodies was necessary to officially end the reign of demons in Nottingham.

Nottingham was finally King Richard’s stronghold, while Prince John had been taken into custody and deprived of his dominion over the north of England. The king gave power in the town to Sir Roger de Lacy, Baron of Pontefract, but only on a temporary basis. Richard also declared that Marian of Knighton would be under the protection of a new sheriff who was highly trusted by the king. Roger de Lacy was supposed to transfer power to the new sheriff after the town was secured by the king’s forces.

On the same evening, the king administered the marriage vows for Sir Guy of Gisborne and Lady Megan Bennet of Attenborough despite the tragedies of the day. Richard conducted the wedding ceremony for Will Scarlett and Djaq who became Mistress Scarlett, although their vows were altered to count for religious differences. There was no celebration after the two hasty weddings due to the mourning in the town.

Before the departure, Robin asked Guy to bury Malcolm the next day in the Locksley graveyard, giving his permission to put Isabella to eternal rest there too. Robin postponed his conversation with Kate as he needed some time to mull over the things that had happened during the siege; he was crushed by grief over the deaths of his wife and his father and couldn’t think of Kate at the moment. King Richard left for London in the late afternoon, on the same day, and so did Prince John, Robin of Locksley, and Robert de Beaumont. The king’s party was escorted by at least fifty loyal knights to guarantee his safety.

Robin didn’t attend two weddings, but he passed on his congratulations to the two newlyweds. He also permitted Marian, Guy, and Megan to live at Locksley Manor; the Attenborough Hall, owned by Megan and now by Guy as her husband, was located rather far from Nottingham, and it was not convenient to travel there, whilst Marian didn’t wish to live at the castle. Then Richard, John, and Robin headed to London to bury Melisende in Worcester Cathedral in the Plantagenet family tomb.

Allan was extremely worried about Kate, whose spirit seemed to have been broken by the news of her mother’s treachery and her death. Allan and Kate remained in Nottingham for a short time, but Allan planned to reclaim his family lands in Rochdale as soon as the situation in Nottingham improved and Kate was fit to travel. Allan planned to marry Kate after establishing himself as the lord of his manor; Rebecca’s daughter, Maggie, became Allan’s ward. As Robin had promised, at present, Malcolm’s youngest son was known as Archer of Locksley and owned some land in Nottinghamshire.

There was no feast at Locksley Manor after Marian, Megan, Guy, Archer, and Allan returned from Nottingham. Giving their best wishes, Marian, Allan, and Archer retired, leaving Megan and Guy in the dining room. The two spouses drank some wine to the health of King Richard, and soon went upstairs.

Guy and Megan stood near a large oak bed covered with lavender and green bedcovers. It wasn’t the master bedroom which Guy had occupied at Locksley Manor and the chamber where Marian had lived during her marriage to him. Guy asked the servants to put his and Megan’s things into a bedroom located in a different part of the manor, wishing to distance himself from the past.

In the candlelight, Megan looked beautiful and seductive in her dark blue silk nightgown designed in the Aquitanian latest fashion, with a V-shaped deep neckline trimmed with white lace. The nightgown clung to her every curve, practically another layer of skin, and Guy let his eye dwell over her slender body, his heart hammering harder and his loins swelling with desire, hot and ecstatic. Megan appeared tempting and yet pure, like a vision of divine beauty; she was the realization of Guy’s dream of serene peace.

“Meg,” Guy said in a throaty voice, his eyes darkening with passion.

Megan blushed under his heated stare. “Guy,” she simply said his name.

Guy didn’t speak for a while, lost in a world of desire that consumed him entirely. He wanted her as much as he had never wanted Marian. Despite everything, he felt hope for the new life he would build with Megan, his wife and his true love. "We are alive, Meg,” Guy muttered in a throaty voice, as if unable to believe that he was at the manor instead of the graveyard in the village. “We are alive,” he repeated.

Megan let out a small smile. “And we are married.”

Guy smiled back at her. “Yes, we are.”

She trembled like an aspen leaf as she inquired, “You don’t regret marrying me, do you?” She was still jealous to Marian, especially knowing that Guy’s former wife was spending the night under the same roof.

He took a step to her. “I don’t regret our marriage,” he said sincerely, looking into her eyes. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

Megan blinked. “You are not lying, aren’t you?” she asked hopefully.

"No, my love," Guy assured her as he traced her jawline with his finger. “I cannot regret marrying such a treasure, which I am intending to make as happy as I can.”

She smiled felicitously. “I am the happiest woman in the world because you are my husband.”

A tender smile curved his mouth. “Meg, I am such a lucky man to be married to you.” He brushed away a lock of dark hair from her forehead. “When you are with me, I can forget about all my sufferings.”

A frown marred her forehead. “Even after all that happened today?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Meg, you are what I have been looking for so long – my safe haven from pain and lies. You are everything I want and need to have for happiness.” Once again, he realized how desperately he needed her to feel complete and whole, to experience a sense of belonging that he didn’t otherwise feel. With Meg, Guy would be able to enjoy even the sight of a leaden winter sky arching high above them like an immense dome of steel. With her, he would overcome multifarious hardships. “What about Marian?”

Guy sought to reassure her. “We cannot escape our fate. Marian was right that we were not meant for each other.” He smirked. “It seems that Marian and Robin are destined to be together.”

Megan was thoughtful. “Maybe,” she breathed. “Robin married Melisende, but she sacrificed herself for England and for her husband. And now he is a widower.”

“Poor Lady Melisende,” he murmured; his heart clenched in pain. “She was my cousin on the paternal side, and I am saddened by her death.”

Megan put a hand on his chest. “I liked her, but she had a glorious death. Her legacy will live on in her and Robin’s son.”

Guy swallowed hard. “I hope Robin will feel better over time.”

“And so do I.”

“As I said, we cannot fight against fate,” he reiterated. “You will see Marian and Robin will find a way back to each other.”

“You think so?” There was a note of doubt in her voice.

Guy nodded. “Yes, I am sure, although it won’t happen tomorrow and not next year.”

Megan smiled. “Then God wants you and me to be together.”

“Yes, my love,” Guy answered in a breathless voice. “ _The Lord wanted me to find you after all the struggles in my life_. And I am so grateful that He gave me you, Meg.”

Megan said in a trembling voice, "Guy, I thank God that you saved me from that thief in the street; that you and I met in the underground prison. I would have never been happy if I hadn’t met you.”

Guy smiled at her with a slow, languid smile. “Meg,” he whispered softly. "My clever, patient, wise, brave, caring, and loving Meg…" He paused and cupped her face with his hands. “You are the only woman I need! You are the woman for whom I have prayed to be my wife, my lover, my partner, my companion, and my best friend. I will put the world at your feet! You are the love of my life!” 

Guy looked down at his wife, dazzled by her beauty. Possessed by a sudden nostalgia for romanticism, he went down on one knee before his wife whom he treasured and loved beyond measure. Megan was amazed when he started kissing her hands and murmuring words of love.

“Guy, what are you doing?” she asked as she recovered the gift of speech.

Holding her hand near his lips, Guy gazed up into her eyes. “You don’t understand what I am feeling now,” he said in a voice thick with intense emotion. “I am alive, and I am here with you. I am not damned to burn in hell when it is exactly what I deserve.”

She knelt to her husband and took his hand in hers. “Please, don’t say this, Guy,” she whispered, and bittersweet tears stung her eyes. “You have done so much good for England, for King Richard, for our people, for your friends, and for me. You have redeemed yourself, and I am proud of being your wife.”

Guy wiped an errant tear from his cheek. “It was a long way for me to become a good man. I had an illusion that revenge would make me happy. For the most part, I viewed the people around me as mere pawns in my quest for power and more wealth. I dragged my honor through the mire. My conscience was apt to tell me of evils that I should not do, but I continued to trudge along the path of infamy and filth.”

“I believe you.”

He laughed bitterly. “When Vaisey gave me Robin’s lands, it didn’t make me happy. When I married Marian, I never had peace and always struggled to get out of a web of pain and lies.” He kissed her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “My life was full of mistakes and regrets, and I didn’t think that I might be content.”

Megan took his face in her hands and gazed into his eyes. “Your life was _a fight for peace_.”

The steel blue eyes brimmed with tears. “And now you have found it.”

They were still sitting on the carpeted floor, and Guy leaned closer to Megan. He enveloped his strong arms around her small frame. The embrace didn’t last long as Guy drew back, and then his lips captured hers as burning, all-absorbing desire for Megan overpowered him. He felt her trembling with the force of the unleashed passion that his touch had freed within her, and they both were lost in a sea of desire that consumed them as nothing ever had before in their lives. At this very moment, Guy wanted Megan and only her so feverishly and so urgently that he could hardly endure light caresses for long.

Megan responded ardently, her fingers entangled in his hair. Although she had never been with a man before, there was nothing virtuous in their endearments: their kisses were possessive and fiery, as if they were gulping on an ambrosial drink of life from each other’s mouths. Megan wanted Guy vehemently, and she shivered uncontrollably, her breath coming in short, almost painful gasps; the headiness of his kisses made her entire body ache with the need for fulfillment.

Guy broke the kiss, holding her in his arms. “Meg, I am impressed,” he whispered, his voice husky. “You are learning quickly, my darling wife.”

She pressed herself hard against him, reveling in his strength, his power, and his fierce, compelling, exhilarating passion for her. “I want you, Guy,” she admitted.

Guy kissed her deeply, his tongue probing against hers. Lifting his mouth from hers, he spoke huskily, “I want you too. We would be fools to loiter on our wedding night. Let me show you something interesting.”

His lips crushed hers once more, powerful and voracious, like if he didn't taste every inch of her he would crumble to pieces. Megan opened her mouth, letting his tongue enter and tangle with hers, relishing in the feel of it stroking hers. Finding herself in a maelstrom of marvelous sensations she had never experienced before, she was oblivious to the whole world but her husband who kissed her and whose expert hands were speaking by touching gently and lovingly. Dazedly, she unbuttoned the front of Guy’s night robe with one of her hands, while the other was wrapped around his back. Her heart nearly bursting with sensual delight, Megan gasped at the sight of his naked chest and his satisfied handsome face, feeling an intense, spiraling ache in her belly growing more demanding with every passing moment.

“I cannot tolerate it longer,” Guy babbled. “I need you now.”

A playful smile on her lips, Megan queried shyly, "And why are you waiting?”

A twinkle leaped into his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Guy gathered Megan into his arms and carried her to the bed. With trembling hands, he quickly stripped them both of their clothing and discarded all the garments on the floor. Then he scooped her into his arms, and his hands slid between their bodies. He cupped her breasts and kneaded her nipples gently between his fingers until she moaned and gasped; the intensity of his touch forged a path all the way to her toes.

Guy chortled as his hands parted her legs and stroked her inner thigh. “You will have a chance to have this pleasure until the end of the world because only death can part us.”

The caress seemed too intimate, and Megan felt uncomfortable. An amused smile quivered fleetingly at the corner of her lips, and a faint rosy blush stained her cheeks. She had grown up at sophisticated court in Aquitaine, but she had never been as frivolous as other ladies-in-waiting of Queen Eleanor. Guy’s touch was insistent and filled her with desire as he stroked her gently, arousing her virgin passions, but she was still embarrassed, positive that she would die of shame as his gaze slowly traversed over her.

“Guy, I am… naturally curious, but perhaps this is… too much,” she stammered, his touch inflaming her.

Guy laughed at her. “A girl from Aquitaine is embarrassed, right?”

She chuckled. “Just a little bit.”

A reverent note in his voice, he breathed softly, “I am your husband.”

Megan let out a small laugh. “I bet you will never allow me to forget about that.”

“Never.” He then captured her mouth with his, and she moaned with pleasure.

As Guy was caressing her with worshipping hands, Megan felt each and every muscle of her body tense in pleasant torture. The painful tightness was growing deeply within her, and she yearned for more intimate contact, permitting herself to explore his body and wishing him so badly that she could hardly bear the sweet agony of remaining still. A frenetic sensation stealing over her, she craved the consummation, and, instinctively, her hips brushed against his, and Guy let out a loud groan.

Guy kissed her on the mouth and shifted slightly until he slipped between her legs. “It will hurt a little, but only the first time,” he enlightened. “I will be as gentle as I can.”

Her husband awakened in Megan the elemental urge to be claimed by him so fully that his taking of her would forever mark her as his alone. She purred, “I believe you won’t make me regret that.”

She didn’t know how anxious Guy felt at the moment. In his thirty-five years, he made love to many women, some of them even virgins, but he had never slept with a virgin wife. Marian wasn’t a virgin on their wedding night because she had already given herself to Robin in the woods on the day of her father’s death. 

“I hope so,” Guy whispered, struggling to keep his voice devoid of nervousness.

When Guy slowly penetrated her, Megan felt only a prickle of pain, although she tensed for a moment until he filled her completely. Then she was lost in a universe of pleasurable sensations, and the tremors of fervent pleasure heralded that she grasped an exhilarating sense of the powers of womankind. Guy flashed the tenderest smile and then kissed her on the mouth, and the world whirled around Megan. Guy’s kisses, his slow, almost languid thrusts into her body, and the warm, masculine scent of his skin made her entire body ache with the need for release, and she started evocative movements beneath him.

“I love you,” Guy said against her lips, his eyes dark with passion. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Megan answered, her voice a soft, wondering lilt, her face glowing.

His mouth found hers, and Guy started kissing Megan with a desperate intensity that drove them both almost to madness, into the world of an intoxicating, sensual oblivion inhabited by two loving creatures. There was more and more of a fevered urgency in his every thrust and movement, his hands teasing and fondling her body as he sought a keenly anticipated pinnacle. Guy clutched both of her hips as he thrust into her as deep as he could, her moans escalating to cries, as he moved faster and harder, rocking her body with the force of his need and love. Then the world suddenly exploded in bright colors, absolute pleasure and rapture overwhelmed them, and they submerged in a boundless ocean of bliss and glory.

When Megan finally dozed off in his arms, Guy wasn’t sleeping for some time, observing his wife and regretting that he would have to leave her so soon for Normandy. He watched Megan’s chest going up and down as she breathed, and he wanted to savor the moments of peace when he was so close to her, and she was pressing so trustingly against his. The present was far too sweet, and like a man elated beyond measure by an unexpected exuberance, Guy overflowed with happiness, amiability, and placidity.

As dawn was painting the canvas in hues of soft pink and gold, Guy woke his wife up. "Get up and dress. We need to bury Isabella and Robin’s father.”

Soon, Megan and Guy climbed down the stairs, dressed in black and wearing somber expressions on their faces. Friar Tuck offered his services for the burial, and they agreed.

Megan gently grabbed his hand and held it with hers. "We are together, Guy. We can survive this.”

Guy gave her a smile. “Indeed, I am with you, Meg.”

“Hey, mates,” Allan addressed them as he appeared near the stairs. “Forgive me for interrupting your cooing, but I have news for you.”

Guy frowned. “What do you need, Allan?”

Allan chuckled. “I need nothing from you, but someone else does.”

“Oh, these lovebirds will have an eternity for cooing!” Archer’s voice came.

The next moment, Marian exited from the study, carrying a peacefully sleeping child. Archer was trailing behind Marian, leading a raven-haired, blue-eyed boy. The boy looked between two and three years old, and his curious eyes were examining the room, taking in Megan and Guy’s surprised faces.

Guy and Megan stopped near the staircase. They had absolutely no clue as to what was happening.

Guy flicked his gaze to Marian and asked, “Who are these children?”

Marian stopped next to Guy. “Lady Glasson arrived in Locksley from Northampton at dawn; she brought grave news,” she informed, struggling to keep her voice steady for the sake of the child in her arms. “Eve, Much’s wife, died of fever, and Much’s son, Edward, is now an orphan.” She stared lovingly at the small boy. “I am going to take little Edward into my household.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Guy answered sincerely.

Marian emitted a sigh of sorrow. “Robin himself intended to take care of Eve and Much’s son, but he is preoccupied with his wife’s… funeral.” She paused, trying to calm down the child who began to fuss in her arms. “Robin doesn’t know about Eve’s death yet. I will contact him a little later… when he feels better.”

“It is the right decision,” Megan concurred. Her gaze slid to the child who stood near Archer. “Who is this boy?”

Archer smiled mysteriously. “This is a special person. I already like him very much.”

“Guy, this is Annie’s son,” Marian informed, looking at Guy. “You must remember Seth.”

Guy’s heart beat faster as his eyes focused on his son. “Seth,” he breathed the name.

Marian explained, “Unfortunately, Annie died of fever together with Eve a week ago, God rest their souls. Lady Glasson took two boys to Locksley once she heard that the king’s army is here.” She smiled slightly. “Guy, you are the only parent Seth has.”

Seth’s steel blue eyes, the color of his mother’s eyes, bore into Guy’s face, and the boy smiled. Guy held his breath as he eyed the son whom he had abandoned almost immediately after his birth.

Megan pushed Guy forward. “The boy needs to have a father, Guy.”

“And he will have a father,” Guy avouched in a voice layered with pride and joy.

Guy acted automatically as he walked towards Archer and gathered Seth into his arms. Seth laughed merrily as Guy raised him in the air and twirled around with him. A flood of happiness poured on Guy like a biblical deluge, although inside his heart was tormented by guilt at the thought that he didn’t do right by Annie who was dead now. But Seth was alive, and Guy intended to be a father for him. Looking into his son’s innocent and vivacious eyes, Guy was conscious that he was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Coleen561, Mademoiselle Nathalie, Queen of Vikings, and jadey36 for sharing their thoughts about the finale and for helping with some scenes.
> 
> Well, everything is over. Vaisey, Sheridan, and the other Black Knights are dead.
> 
> I hope you like how Robin and Robert de Beaumont executed Lord Sheridan who murdered Melisende in the previous chapter. Robin and the king’s men must be pitiless to the murderer of the king’s cousin who betrayed King Richard. Melisende’s death has been avenged by her husband and his best friend, her former lover. Melisende died a heroine’s death; she will never be forgotten.
> 
> From the start, I planned that Marian and Isabella would kill Vaisey in the finale. I wanted Vaisey to be poisoned, which is the link to the show, and to be stabbed in the gut as well, like he stabbed Robin in Acre in part 2 “Mysteries Unveiled”. As Isabella murdered Robin in the series, I wanted her to contribute to the sheriff’s death in this epic, and so she did. I wanted Isabella to earn her absolution in this story, but I planned to kill her off in the finale from the start. Most importantly, I have Marian murder Vaisey – she has annihilated the evil of Nottingham. In the previous chapter, there was the foreshadowing of Marian’s special role in this epic: Marian’s fate was to kill Vaisey and save Robin, Guy, and Archer from this demon; she has achieved what everyone has failed to do. As Isabella used Melisende’s poison-tipped dagger, we can say that Robin’s deceased wife helped them from her grave. Fate does have a mordant sense of humor: Vaisey hates lepers, and he is killed by three brave women, including Melisende.
> 
> Many thanks to jadey36 for counseling me about Vaisey’s death! Her great idea that at first Vaisey lands on the canopy over the front steps of the castle made Vaisey’s death more brutal. The sheriff was alive when he landed on the front steps as the wallop wasn’t as strong as it could have been, and so Vaisey didn’t die on impact. Vaisey was poisoned, stabbed in the gut, and died a slow and agonizing death. I think that his death is dramatic and well-deserved. Do you like the way I killed the sheriff off?
> 
> Guy married Megan who loves him deeply and unconditionally. I felt that King Richard would want to conduct the wedding ceremony despite the tragedies of the day, for Guy’s marriage to Megan serves the purpose of keeping him close to the king and of safeguarding the secret of Robin’s birth. But Guy is happy with his wife, and he has found peace. I hope that you like the Guy/Meg love scene in this chapter. I confess that I don’t quite like Meg in canon, which is why I changed her background and personality in this epic. I hope that you like my non-canonical Megan with Guy. I also want to ask Guy/Marian shippers to forgive me for not shipping Marian and Guy together – I didn’t see how I could do that in this story.
> 
> In the previous chapter, the triangle Marian/Robin/Melisende was untangled after Melisende’s tragic death, although Robin began to reassess his feelings for these two women before his wife’s murder. Even despite being heartbroken and devastated, Robin realizes that he will never forget Marian, although he is not going to be immediately reunited with her. Robin will be mourning for his tragically deceased wife for several years, but his feelings for Marian will not fade away. Marian and Robin’s love is based on shared core values and ideals; Robin and Melisende don’t share many core values, they are very different.  In the years to come, Robin will realize many things about his wife and his feelings for Marian and Melisende.
> 
> I felt that I had to mention Seth, Annie’s son, and I wanted the boy to be raised by Guy. I felt that poor Much needed a good company in heaven, which is why Eve is dead too; Much is not alone in heaven, and his son, Edward, would be taken care of by Marian and Robin. I don’t think that Eve would have named her son Robin, for she doesn’t like Robin Hood, especially not after Much’s heroic sacrifice for Robin.
> 
> I know that the Malcolm/Rebecca storyline is very original and a bit shocking, but I hope you like it. Of course, Rebecca – Malcolm’s’ spurned lover who killed him in cold blood – was doomed. As Marian and Isabella murdered Vaisey, I wanted the siege to become “the day of several brave women”, which is why Megan kills Rebecca in self-defense. Now Robin knows that Kate is his sister; they will have a short interaction in the epilogue. As for Malcolm, he is like many other nobles who kept mistresses and slept with servants, and Robin explains all these things to Archer after Rebecca’s death.
> 
> Vaisey and all the traitors are dead. I hope you like the original and unusual finale. In the next chapter, the action takes place about three years after the siege of Nottingham; this chapter is called “Reunion”.


	17. A Happy Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some very exciting news! Now my friend and I are hard at work on our original writing project! If you love the Robin Hood legend, I assure you that you will love our trilogy! Our new series which is tentatively titled, **_The Robin Hood Trilogy._** The first novel in the trilogy is almost complete, the second novel is in the editing phase, and we also started to work on book 3.
> 
> Their upcoming Robin Hood Trilogy is a completely original work that will feature not only the legendary characters from the ballads of Robin Hood but also real historical figures. You can also count on meeting some unforgettable original characters! We anticipate publication of the first book in 2017. 
> 
> **Here is the blurb:**
> 
> England, 1154-1194
> 
> A Kingdom under Assault.  
> Bold Conspiracies of Unthinkable Malevolence.  
> A Lone Man Taking a Stand against Tyranny and Evil.
> 
> Their lives are shrouded in mystery and controversy – Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart, and John Lackland. The first Plantagenets: a dynasty born of anarchy and nurtured by intrigue. Although they would govern England for over three centuries, no threat to their rule would be greater than the secrets hidden within the tangled family tree of their ancestor, William the Conqueror.
> 
> As shadowy forces gather to attack the Plantagenet royal family, there is only one man who can defeat the evil that threatens to destroy the future of a nation.
> 
> Bow in hand, Robin Fitzooth, the Earl of Huntingdon, confronts the growing darkness and becomes Robin Hood. He will face deception, betrayal, and the ravages of war as he fights to defend his king, his country, his people, and the woman he loves from a conspiracy so diabolical, so unexpected, that the course of history hangs in the balance.
> 
> A battle between good and evil, justice and tyranny, the future and the past.

**Chapter 17**

**A Happy Reunion**

It was late autumn in Normandy, and days were cold, gray, and short. The sun was shining through the dark clouds driving across the firmament, and the cold rain had stopped only an hour ago.

Sir Guy of Gisborne scanned his surroundings, his eyes taking in the picturesque valley and in the Forest of Rouvnay that was aflame with orange, brown, and yellow hues. He smiled to himself, thinking that Normandy was a beautiful land even in the autumn, at the time when forests and fields were looking, feeling, smelling, and sounding of the coming onset of winter.

Guy veered his gaze to the camp in the suburbs of Rouen. As they weren’t busy in the past few days, he visited Rouen; it was a beautiful city, the largest in Normandy, and Guy enjoyed his tour in the town in spite of the many painful memories the place brought back to life.

It was a long time since Guy had last been in England. After the siege of Nottingham, he had spent a month in Nottingham, where he had lived at Locksley Manor together with Megan, Archer, Kate, and Allan. In two weeks after the siege, Allan and Kate had headed to Rochdale to reclaim his lands there; Allan had married Kate of Locksley there, and she had birthed him two children – a daughter and a son. Kate was officially proclaimed an illegitimate daughter of Malcolm of Locksley; Robin had granted her a patch of land in Nottinghamshire. Marian had restored Knighton Hall and lived there with Edward, Much and Eve’s son, who now was her ward. Thirsting for adventure, Archer had decided to join Guy in Normandy.

Very soon Megan and Guy had departed from Nottingham to London to attend King Richard’s second coronation, which had been necessary to show the nation and the nobles who was the rightful King of England. Robin of Locksley had also been present at the king’s coronation, although he hadn’t visited the grand banquet due to his mourning for his murdered wife. As expected, King Richard had forgiven Prince John and recognized him as his successor instead of Arthur.

Guy had parted with Megan in London and departed to Normandy together with King Richard to join the campaign against King Philippe of France. Robin had left London with the king, but he hadn’t participated in the war during the first year. Instead, the heartbroken hero had spent more than six months in his wife’s estates in Bordeaux, devoting all his time to his son Richard during his emotional convalescence.

In Robin’s absence, for about a year, Guy had served in the private guard headed by Sir Carter Leighton of Stretton, Baron Clifton. It had been an unpleasant experience for Guy because Carter resented him, and sometimes when their gazes locked, he thought that the blonde man would retch if they didn’t cease eye contact. After the landing of Richard’s troops in Normandy, King Philippe had fled, leaving his entire archive of financial audits and documents for Richard. The king had begun the re-conquest of the Norman lands, planning to re-take the county of Vexin and Berry from the French.

Robin had arrived in Normandy in a year after the siege; he had been again appointed captain of the king’s private guard. Carter had become Robin’s second-in-command; Archer had also served in the private guard. On the day of Robin’s appearance, King Richard had promoted Roger de Tosny to captain of the fourth guard of the king’s forces and elevated Guy to Roger’s second-in-command. Guy suspected that the king wanted to spare him from serving under Robin’s command, remembering about their old conflict.

Despite their separation due to the ongoing war, Lady Megan of Gisborne had done her best to stay close to her husband. After Megan had secured her inheritance in Nottingham and overseen the restoration of Gisborne Manor, she had come to Guy to Normandy and spent a lot of the time living in villages close to the king’s camp. In between battles, Megan had often visited Guy in the king’s camp; at times, Guy had come to a village where she had stayed, sharing with her moments of strength, romance, and love.

Guy was one of the very few king’s men who had such a devoted wife, and Megan’s commitment to being with him touched Guy deeply. In a county torn by war and bloodshed, Guy and Megan’s romantic love was as rare and precious as a flick of sunshine upon a strange shore. Guy loved Megan when he had married her, and his devotion to her grew deeper and stronger in the past two years. The couple had many chances to be together, and Megan had conceived in a year after their wedding; in her delicate condition, she hadn’t been following the king’s army and settled in Poitiers.

Megan had given birth to a healthy son, whom they named Hugh in honor of Megan’s deceased father. Guy didn’t want to name his son in honor of Roger of Gisborne, who wasn’t his real father, and most definitely not in honor of King Henry, the very man who had ruined his and Isabella’s lives. Now Guy was a proud father of two sons – Seth of Gisborne and High of Gisborne; he loved his two sons deeply.

The fall of Château de Gisors to King Philippe’s army in 1196 opened a gap in the Norman defenses. Then Robin glorified his name once again when he negotiated the Treaty of Louviers in December 1195 between King Philippe and King Richard, under the terms of which nobody was allowed to fortify the site. However, King Richard intended to build Château Gaillard as a new stronghold against the French in Normandy. In response, Philippe besieged Aumale in Normandy, and the war of two kings was far from its end. Richard’s council of war was subsequently held in Normandy; it was decided that the fortifications of important strongholds should at once be thoroughly repaired, so as to enable these cities to stand a siege.

Guy was pulled out of his thoughts by a cough. Already knowing who interrupted his solitude, he turned his head and smiled at the flame-haired man who was his friend since his early youth. Sir Roger de Tosny, Baron de Conches, saluted him; all the time they spent in Normandy, Roger was Guy’s true and close friend.

“What are you doing on this hill?” Roger asked Guy.

Guy sighed heavily, his gaze sliding from Roger’s face to the forest. He was silent for a moment, thinking about the abhorrent events of the past in Rouen. At last, he stared into his friend’s concerned face. “I needed a moment of solitude, Roger,” he replied flatly.

Roger approached Guy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Guy nodded. “Yes, I am fine.” He sighed. “I just remembered something.”

“I know what you mean,” Roger answered in a voice tinged with sadness. “Many years ago, all your troubles started here, in Rouen, when I was wounded on a tournament, and Lord Peter Vaisey forced you to work for him. One night, he made you kill that knight in the Forest of Rouvnay.”

“Yes,” Guy confirmed. “It is difficult for me to be here.”

“Some wounds never heal,” Roger continued sympathetically. “Guy, you will probably never forget your first meeting with Vaisey, but your life changed, and you found peace.”

Guy scanned the tree line of the distant forest. “I found peace when I married Meg and realized how much I love her.” He swung his eyes to Roger, and his face lit up with a brilliant smile. “My Meg and my son are my world! I love them the most! I would have died if something had happened to them!”

“You miss them, right?”

“Yes, I do miss them so much,” Guy acknowledged. “I was the happiest man in the world when Meg followed us as the king’s army moved through Normandy. But she cannot do this after Hugh’s birth; she is also taking care of Seth. I will meet them again on Christmas; they will arrive from Nottingham to court.”

Roger chuckled. “All the soldiers in the king’s army know about the most devoted Lady Megan FitzCorbet of Gisborne. Everyone envies that you have such a loving wife.”

Guy burst out laughing merrily. “I envy myself that I have Meg as my wife.”

“Robin,” the other man spoke with respect. “He would be very witty! He would say something like ‘let them envy and watch how much I am loved and admired until they grow old or get bored’, I think.”

“Robin is renowned for his dry humor.” Guy’s lips quivered in a small hint of a smile. “Earlier, his dry humor irritated and annoyed me. Over time, I reassessed the value of his ability to make a joke out of anything and anyone. It is really entertaining when his barbs prickle the skin of his enemies like needles, like it had once been with me when I tried to capture him in Nottingham.”

“You and Robin are not foes anymore.”

“But we haven’t become friends either,” Guy stressed with a touch of regret.

Roger spoke truthfully. “Guy, I understand Robin. It is difficult to forgive someone who killed one of his best friends and who once married the woman who was twice betrothed to him.”

Guy folded his arms over his chest. “Robin doesn’t hate me for marrying Marian. But he cannot forgive me for Roger of Stoke’s murder and for terrorizing the people of Nottinghamshire.”

Roger sighed. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes. He said that to me a month ago.”

“You have to agree that Robin has the reasons to feel so, Guy.”

Contrition painted itself over Guy’s countenance. “I understand him; he has the right to hate me, but he doesn’t. I am grateful that he is civil towards me,” he said with an air of dignity.

De Tosny looked thoughtful. “I have known Robin since he arrived in Poitiers for knighthood training.” He sighed frustratingly. “After his wife’s death, Robin became more closed-off than ever.”

A thought occurred to him, and Guy voiced his observations, “When I watch Robin, I sense that he is just drifting along. Life has become something that happens to him; not something that he commands. Instead of the captain of the ship of his life, he is only a passenger adrift in the currents of the sea. It is a voyage that he embarked upon on the day of his wife’s death.”

“I have the same perception. Robin is like a man silent in the great stillness, breathing the self-imposed isolation and the repose of a slumber without dreams.”

In a perspicacious manner, Guy assessed, “Robin is burdened by life and appears aloof when you talk about his plans for the future. Even when he joined us in Normandy, it was not so much a decision to pursue something in which he believed but a distraction that allowed him to escape court and his wife’s estates, both of which seem to arouse painful memories for him, even though he is devoted to his son and loves him wholeheartedly. The need for escape, coupled with his staunch loyalty to Richard, resulted in his decision to participate in a new war campaign; it is not the same as pursuing a course of action in which you are championing a cause.”

Roger added, “I know that King Richard is worried about Robin’s life and future.”

“Of course.” Guy’s relationship with the king remained formal, although the lion grew to respect him for his good and loyal service. Several times, Richard had thanked Guy for his contribution in their victories, saying that it was the right decision to appoint Guy Roger de Tosny’s second-in-command.

During the campaign in Normandy, Robin and King Richard became closer than ever. Richard and Robin deeply treasured their brotherhood, and, for Robin, there was almost nothing the king wouldn't do. Another reason was that Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, had been in the French captivity for almost since the beginning of Richard’s campaign: Leicester had been defending Rouen from the advances of King Philippe’s army, and been captured while attempting to subjugate the castle of Pacy. Since then, the king was entirely focused on Robin and a couple of other favorites.

Roger frowned. “I am not talking about Robin’s personal life. As far as I know, he had several affairs in the past two years. He sometimes visits brothels.”

“They come to the camp regularly,” Guy amended. “And the king permits dissipation for his soldiers.”

“Robin holds the king’s greatest favor. In the Holy Land, whores often appeared in the Crusaders’ camp, and our men hired them. But it had never been the case on Richard’s any campaign on the continent… until Roger de Lacy and André de Chauvigny started this practice; now Robin followed suit.”

Without any reprobation, Guy verbalized the truth. “I think Robin is making a huge mistake; his affairs are merely _a quest to forget his wife_ and the guilt he feels due to his inability to get over Marian. Bedding women he doesn’t love – and he doesn’t have feelings for them – doesn’t alleviate his pain.”

 “It will not help Robin,” de Tosny gave his verdict.

“You are right, Roger.”

Guy admitted, “Robin’s gloomy and listless demeanor chagrins me.”

“Me too,” Roger joined.

They all missed the old Robin – a man of high spirits and feverish enthusiasms. While in Normandy, Guy and Roger sometimes surreptitiously observed Robin and discovered a sullen and withdrawn man who was hiding behind the mask of a cheeky rogue. During these private moments, Robin’s eyes were vacant and dull, as if they had been hollowed out by the same javelin which had mortally wounded Melisende. They often noticed Richard’s worried gaze when Robin stared into space with a detached expression. In truth, the hero of the woods was adrift in a boundless ocean of confusion because the purpose of his life had been untethered from his past, and he was now afloat on an expanse of darkness and affliction. Robin was like a small vessel on a lonely expedition that lacked any real meaning to him. A voyage whose navigation was plotted not by the stars, or even Robin’s hopes and dreams, but by _the king’s interests and whims_.

“Guy, we should go,” Roger urged. “I have a meeting with King Richard soon.”

Guy nodded wordlessly, and then followed Roger who headed to the king’s camp. It was so cold that Roger and Guy wrapped their cloaks more closely around themselves against the rising chilly wind. They were surprised to meet Robin near the entrance to the camp.

Unlike de Tosny and Guy, Robin was dressed in chainmail; he wore a warm woolen tunic beneath it. Robin was holding his helmet in his hands, his scimitar sheathed. Although he was no longer as young as he had been at the time of the fateful Saracen attack in Acre, Robin looked as boyish as always, perhaps due to his light build and his startlingly blue eyes, Guy mused. Yet, there was undeniable hardness in Robin’s features that hadn’t been there before the tragedies in Imuiz and then in Nottingham. 

Roger addressed Robin, “Why are you wearing your armor and chainmail, Robin?”

“Have the French attacked us again, Robin? Or is chainmail defending you from the cold better than your cloak?” Guy jested.

“I had sparring matches with my men,” Robin informed in a dispassionate voice, glaring at Guy. “Guy, you should be training instead of gallivanting around.” His expression softened as he looked at de Tosny. “Roger, the king was looking for you.”

De Tosny inquired, “Does our liege want to discuss the relocation of his troops for Christmas period?”

In a cold voice, totally unlike his customary soft or teasing lilt, Robin averred, “That’s right, Roger. The king wants you to lead the fourth guard to Aumale and patrol the area during the Christmas tide. André will lead all other men to Anjou and stay there.”

Roger released a sigh of regret. “I will not see my children before the end of the year.”

Robin narrowed his eyes in displeasure as he pontificated, “As you affirm this so roundly, I am honor bound to remind you that the king’s orders are the law for everyone! You can summon your children to Aumale for Christmas and then ask someone to take them back to your castle in Conches.”

“Robin, you know that I always obey our king,” de Tosny responded calmly. “I just miss my children so much!”

At this, a warm smile spread across Robin’s handsome features. “I miss my son too, and I covet to be reunited with him.” Since Melisende’s death, little Richard was Robin’s only comfort in the ebony pall of night that encompassed him completely.

“Then you understand Roger’s concern,” Guy intervened.

“I do.” Robin acknowledged with a nod, his expression stern. “Military success is not the result of chance, even if the latter is often present in battles and always has to be reckoned with. The genius of our liege and calculation ensure sustained feats on the battlefield, but the loyalty and discipline of his knights are crucial to the ultimate victory. That’s why I would have patrolled the whole Angevin Empire on Christmas, from the north to the south, if Richard enjoined to do that to prevent Philippe from attacking us.”

Roger and Guy nodded at Robin, knowing that the captain of the private guard always supported harsh discipline and vigilance in any conditions and under all circumstances, which, together with his impressive tactics and strategies, allowed Robin to win many campaigns and battles.

Guy queried, “Robin, does the king want me to travel to Aumale too? I want to know this now because I need to send word to my wife. Meg is interested where I will be on Christmas.”

Robin enlightened, “Guy, you will be with us at court.” He directed at Roger an apologetic glance. “I am sorry, Roger. It was the king’s decision, and I can do nothing.”

Roger dipped his head in comprehension. “I know, Robin. Everything is alright.”

§§§

After Roger de Tosny left them, Guy and Robin stood near the entrance to the camp for a while. When Robin intended to leave, Guy put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“What do you want, Guy?” Robin questioned.

“Still as loyal to the king as always, even if this war doesn’t make you happy?” Guy knew in advance that Robin would be angry at him for speaking this way.

Contrary to Guy’s expectations, no outburst followed, and Robin was silent for a moment. “You know that I cannot leave King Richard. He needs me in Normandy.” He sighed heavily. “Richard is the King of England, and every subject has a duty to him.”

Guy exhaled in annoyance, clenching his teeth. “Please don’t talk to me about the divine right of kings. I have never believed that they are chosen to rule by God.”

“My beliefs changed, and I don’t think that the king is God’s incarnate.” Robin glanced around; but they were alone, and the guards didn’t disturb them. “And I cannot leave Richard.”

“I know why your allegiance to him is unwavering, and I admire you for your loyalty and heroics,” Guy communicated sincerely. “But you don’t want to be here, and you can go to your son who lives at Queen Eleanor’s court. I am convinced that Richard will not object.”

“Richard offered me not to serve in Normandy.”

“Let me guess, Robin: you refused.”

“Of course, I did.”

Guy shook his head disapprovingly. “England doesn’t always need your help. You are clinging to Richard as if he were the most precious thing in the world.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “You lost many people who loved you, and so did I. But there are many others who love and need you.”

Robin knew that Guy said the truth, but he couldn’t agree with that. Richard was one of the very few people who tied Robin to the old England that was irrevocably gone. He had been disillusioned by his death in Acre, but Melisende’s death had made him absolutely disenchanted. Once King Richard told him that he wanted Robin to be less idealistic, but not at the price that his half-brother paid for his disillusionment.

Robin launched a verbal attack at Guy, wishing to hurt the older man for stating the truth. “Nonsense, Gisborne! Isn’t your intelligence related to the interests of England? Or perhaps it takes something more than intelligence to think about rights of kings and duties of their subjects?”

“Gisborne instead of Guy?”

“Why not?” Robin fired back. “There is nothing better than jeering at you, Gisborne, for you are unable to retort.” He chuckled. “But I am dying to know whether you can ever acquire a good sense of humor.”

Guy sighed. “Maybe I will ask you for a lesson.” As Robin scowled and then relaxed, his lips arching in a ghost of a smile, Guy knew that he had won the round with Robin.

Robin’s smile was cheeky, his dimples showing, and there was laughter in his eyes. “We became allies and fought against Prince John together. Now we are fighting against King Philippe alongside King Richard. Maybe one day someone will compose a ballad about us!”

Guy smirked. “You are flattered that so many bards sing about you, right?”

Robin exclaimed, “My adventurous life should be glorified!”

They smiled at each other. Perhaps they would never be close friends, but the progress in their relationship was undeniably significant.

Carter stalked Robin and Guy. Ignoring Guy, he hugged Robin; as he drew back, there was a large smile on his face. “Robin, you completed the negotiations!”

Robin’s lips stretched into a grin as he attested, “Yes, I did, my friend.” Since Much’s death, he became closer than ever with his surviving friends – Robert de Beaumont, Roger de Lacy, and Carter of Stretton.

Guy raised a quizzical brow. “What do you mean?”

Carter glared at Guy. “The French finally agreed to the terms of Robert’s release.”

“Congratulations.” Guy pulled his gaze from Carter who disliked him so much.

Roger de Lacy emerged from the king’s tent and strode towards Robin. “Listen to me, everyone!” he cried out. “Sir Robert de Beaumont will be released before Christmas!” He stopped and took Robin’s hand in his, then raised their joint hands. “This is only thanks to the Earl of Huntingdon’s endeavors!”

The king’s guards burst into applauding their captain and hailed him.

As he swooped into a theatrical bow, Robin declared smugly, “Yes, I did that for England and for our king. That will please our liege!”

Guy rolled his eyes; something in Robin would never change. “Oh, Robin,” he muttered.

“Congratulations, brother,” Archer spoke admiringly as he appeared at Guy’s right.

“Thank you,” Robin answered, grinning.

Standing not far from the group, King Richard watched them with a satisfied smile on his face. “Bravo, Lord Huntingdon,” he praised.

Robin pivoted to face the Lionheart and bowed deeply. “My liege,” he greeted.

The king’s blue eyes were ablaze with the fire of joy. “You are a fine commander, but sometimes you can still be the same young glory-hungry man whom we once recruited to our guard.”

Robin grinned brashly.  “Sire, glory hunting often helps me protect you.”

Richard tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Robin, one day I will challenge you to a sparring match and will have a singular focus on beating you down.” He chuckled, dropping the royal etiquette.

A slightly embarrassed Robin glanced away, his face turning serious. As he heard the king’s laugh, he looked back at Richard and smiled. “We both know that I will lose.”

Richard smiled enigmatically. “And it will be a good lesson to you, Robin.”

Robin bowed. “I am always ready to be defeated by my king.”

Behind the king, André de Chauvigny observed the exchange between the king and his favorite knight; a few months ago, he had been invested with the position of captain of the first guard of King Richard’s forces. André de Chauvigny was a Poitevin knight in Richard’s service for many years; he also was one of Richard’s second cousins. André was enlisted into Richard’s household while Richard had still been Count of Poitou. André had become one of King Richard’s most prominent generals on the Third Crusade.

André bowed to the king and then to Robin; a large smile lit up his features. “Bravo, Lord Huntingdon! Only you could convince King Philippe’s envoys to finally release our beloved Leicester!”

“André, it is nice to see you,” Robin greeted. His mischievous smile widened. “I would have never left Robert with the French for long. As I am a little bird, I would have flown to France to him!”

“I have no doubt, Robin,” de Chauvigny said with a laugh.

“Robert suffered enough for his loyalty to me,” the king remarked with appreciation.

A frolicsome smile curved André's mouth. “Robin, we have a surprise for you.”

De Chauvigny whistled, and one of the king’s guards appeared from a nearby tent, accompanied by a young blonde-haired, green-eyed petite girl. Although the girl was wrapped in a woolen cloak, she was shuddering from the cold as the wind whistled at her skirts.

“Who is she?” Robin had already guessed that his friends had hired another whore for him.

King Richard looked impenetrable, although he was displeased with the turn of events. Roger de Tosny, Guy, and Archer shared uneasy glances, knowing what it meant.

Roger de Lacy approached the girl and took her hand in his. She smiled flirtatiously at Roger, thinking that he was an attractive client, but he led her to Robin. As they stopped next to Robin, the whore stared at the sandy-haired armed knight, young and handsome; the girl’s face split into a smile of admiration, and she winked at Robin, thinking that he was also a brilliant bedmate.

De Lacy gave the king a questioning look, and Richard nodded grudgingly. From time to time, the lion endorsed his men to have some dissipation because soldiers always needed some distraction from monotonous days filled with bloodshed and killings. But the king wasn’t happy that Robin was leading this kind of life, and he planned to put an end to it very soon.

Richard promenaded to his own tent; de Tosny and several other guards were trailing behind him. Guy and Archer also left to their tents, although Archer was going to return and hire a girl for the night.

“Robin, we went to Rouen in the morning and hired several girls for tonight,” Roger de Lacy informed, his emerald eyes sparkling. “I chose this one for you, my friend.”

André de Chauvigny snickered. “Robin, don’t worry. We didn’t touch her – she is only yours. A lovely and experienced whore warms you up, my friend!”

“Go, Robin!” de Lacy advocated.

Robin eyed the girl without interest. “Thank you,” he replied distantly.

De Chauvigny glanced at the girl. “You cannot imagine how lucky you are, woman,” he began, laughing in his booming voice. Then he pointed at Robin. “This young man is a hero! He is Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and captain of the king’s private guard! He is Hero of Acre and the savior of our blessed, glorious, and beloved King Richard! He is also the great Robin Hood!”

The king’s guards smiled and nodded in confirmation; some of them sniggered. Archer and Guy huffed in apparent annoyance. Roger de Lacy gave André de Chauvigny a fulminating look as Robin preferred strict anonymity when it came to spending time with prostitutes in the camp or in brothels.

Robin stared off into the distance, a torn expression on his face. He seemed to hesitate before admitting reluctantly, “I am not sure I want to be with anyone tonight.”

De Lacy’s smile faded. “That is up to you, Robin.” He waved his hand, sending the girl away. As soon as the disappointed prostitute left, Roger admonished, “Please don’t spend the evening brooding over Lady Melisende’s death and the cruel destiny that sundered so great a union.”

In a voice laced with both anguish and resignation, his eyes caverns of pain, Robin murmured, “When I remember my wife, my heart leaps and trembles, but it is more than a feeling of love.  I loved Melisende, and I love our son more than anything else in my life. If I had the choice, I would choose to have her by my side as my wife and the mother of my son and heir.” He trailed off for a moment and sighed grievously.

“Something bothers you?” Carter inquired as he approached them.

Robin swallowed with an effort, the vestiges of love he felt for his deceased spouse warring with despair and confusion. “That choice is only an illusion, and my love is colored and shaded by the shifting memories of time. There are things that I have realized about Melisende – things that I have learned about her life – that mystify me. _I am forced to acknowledge that I didn’t know many facets of my wife’s personality_.”

Carter bobbed his head. “I know what you mean, Robin. Lady Melisende and you were different. She was a great woman, noble-minded, courageous, and benevolent, but her heart wasn’t dedicated to the fight for the downtrodden. Your wife was a Plantagenet, and her loyalty was first to her family and, ultimately, to you, Robin. She would have never been able to sacrifice her life and her future for the most humble souls, like Robin Hood and the Lady Marian.”

Robin was taken aback, for he hadn’t realized that Carter understood the layers of his relationships with Melisende and Marian so well. He then growled, “So, you know things about my wife which she concealed from me? King Richard, you, and others didn’t tell me everything, but that wasn’t necessary. I was notified about the massive executions of commoners in Melisende’s lands which she sanctioned after their revolts against her and King Richard when there was a dispute over the title of Countess of Bordeaux. Melisende also executed those vassals who refused to swear the oath of vassalage to our son after her return to Aquitaine from Acre, when I was presumed dead and my son was considered my heir.”

De Chauvigny interposed, “Robin, you have to understand that Lady Melisende belonged to a royal family. Sometimes she had to be ruthless to survive and to defend herself and the rights of those whom she loved, including the rights of your own son.”

“There was some ruthlessness in her,” de Lacy agreed, his spirits suddenly heavy. “As in all Plantagenets. As in all of us.”

“Yes,” Robin breathed. He declared, “I don’t like that Melisende persecuted those who were against the king and her with her odious passion. I know that the nobility of her heart was not a fiction, but she was different than what I thought.”

De Lacy smiled sadly. “That is true, Robin.”

A hard edge to his voice that belied his composure, Robin continued, “I wouldn’t have permitted these bloody executions. Now I am also aware that, before our marriage, Melisende used poison on some of King Richard’s enemies; the same rebellious vassals whose loyalty to the king my marriage to her was intended to ensure. If I had known all these things, how _very differently_ I would have acted in the past after my return.”

“There must have been a sort of happiness in your marriage,” de Chauvigny assumed, smitten with a strange longing to affirm that Robin had been content with his first wife.

Robin’s spirits lifted. “Of course! Melisende loved me, and I loved her! She gave me so many precious moments! She gave me my son!”

While other soldiers and his friends were entertaining, Robin was sitting at the table in his sparsely furnished tent, stretching his legs to the fire that burned in the small hearth that had been brought to his tent to warm the air in the winter. Wedging his head more comfortably into the high back of the chair, he pondered over his life and his loves. He was glad that he denied himself sexual pleasure tonight.

The sun had set, and the hills around Rouen became black shadows, and above them, the glittering congregation of stars resembled the mad turmoil in Robin’s head as thoughts were hurtling around in an unbreakable circle. Darkness deepened fast, but Robin didn’t go out of his tent, and at last, the night stretched its smooth veil over the earth.

Robin vaguely realized that now it was very dark outside, and he simply closed his eyes, as if weary with the light. And it was true: he was tired of his life, of his meaningless affairs that didn’t palliate his heartache, and of the loneliness that weighed him down like a heavy blanket. In the past few years, Robin sought forgetfulness in sex, but he had already grasped that it would not assuage his pain. Every time a woman left his bed, he felt hollow, alone with his erstwhile pain and nightmares that were still plaguing him with a breathtaking poignancy. Robin’s quest for affairs was over; there was no sense to continue it.

Melisende still remained the greatest enigma of his whole life. Robin believed implicitly that she was a dignified and benevolent woman who loved and cared for him and their friends; he didn’t need any proof as Melisende’s sacrifice of her life in the siege indicated the depth of her love for him. Nevertheless, the things that he had been brought to his attention when he had lived in his wife’s estates shifted his perception, allowing him to see both good and bad sides to Melisende. Despite all her greatness, many of his spouse’s real beliefs and principles were incongruent with Robin’s, and in the face of this realization, the canvas of Melisende’s life seemed a glorious and noble blue with some unchivalrous patches.

Robin frequently wondered how his wife would have revealed to him her iniquitous deeds if she were alive. Melisende would have been looking at him, the words of explanation trembling on her lips, but she would have remained silent, knowing that her husband who fought for the poor and oppressed would have protested and probably felt abhorred by her actions. Melisende had never experienced deep compassion to peasants, beggars, and commoners, and she wouldn’t have been able to realize that her actions had put her in an invidious position in her husband’s eyes. Melisende had allowed him to see the gleaming purity of large pearls, but deep down she was ruthless and at times cruel, like the Lionheart, and that was the gospel truth.

Lady Melisende Plantagenet was the quintessence of the great intelligence one can ever find in a woman and of almost all the passions a man could dream of being lavished with. She was all femininity, elegance, grace, and sophistication, and her magnificent beauty enthralled men like sirens could lure naive or imprudent men to their ruin. An incredibly captivating, yet fatal, aura emanated from those lovely eyes of violet depths. Melisende was the quintessence of every man's dream of their future friend, sweetheart, and wife, but she was not the ideal woman Robin had been allowed to see.

Yet, Robin did really love Melisende despite all his confusion and disapproval of her actions. How could he possibly explain his own tangled emotions? It seemed to him that he loved certain qualities in her and loved her for the understanding and love she had given him. Melisende was a fierce woman with a good heart, and she deserved to be loved more than Robin could give her. And now, almost three years after her death, his wife seemed so distant, as if fate were trying to keep him away from experiencing perpetual devotion to Melisende’s memory, accustomed guilt overwhelmed Robin.

Robin felt like a flower which was fresh today and withered tomorrow. The women whom he had bedded since his wife’s passing were no fit companion for a man of his abilities and station. His life seemed blighted, and it didn't give him even a semblance of fragmented peace either. Yet, the majestic world – the old happy days of his youth – was a layer to Robin’s personality, being buried in the depths of his heart. And through the mists of time and distance, came the memories of the woman who was often present in his mind and always in his heart – Marian of Knighton, his childhood sweetheart.

His heart prickled with guilt – the guilt for abandoning Marian years ago to fight in the Holy Land, the guilt for not loving Melisende as much as his wife loved him, the guilt for his failure to save his wife from Sheridan, and the guilt for all the heartaches he had caused to Marian and his dead wife. Instantly, colorful visions of Marian again flowed through his mind like a silent symphony of their young love which was alive in him and which he hoped hadn’t died in her. And as a torrent of memories of Marian and him cascaded through Robin’s essence, all troubles faded away, and only she mattered.

Robin pondered over the possibility of a reunion with Marian. Could she really be waiting for him as King Richard had told him in one of their conversations? Had she met a man who could awaken love in her during his absence in England? No, that was not possible! He owned Marian’s heart, as she had once told him. Several years passed since they had last met on the day of the siege! Marian must have become more beautiful than ever, her beauty silencing the reason and ravishing the heart of the beholders! A sense of bittersweet nostalgia stole over him, and just then, Robin resolved to meet with Marian again.

Marian was the love of his life, a great light for Robin that gave new depth to shades, new brilliance to colors, an awesome vibrancy to all sensations, and vitality to even the darkest of his musings. She was the quintessence of elegance, sophistication, nobility of the heart, compassion, and bravery. _Robin’s love for Marian was the quintessence of his life!_ Robin’s heart started beating faster as he tried to imagine his meeting with Marian; she would surely talk to him and understand why he had departed to Aquitaine and then to another war. She would become his wife whom he would love all the days of his life. He would come back to her life like a whirlwind and would coax her into marrying him, Robin mused blissfully.

§§§

Lady Marian of Knighton examined herself in a large mirror as she was preparing for the grand banquet at Chateau de Chinon, where the court of King Richard and Queen Eleanor gathered to celebrate Christmas.

Marian looked beautiful in her charming blue brocade gown with a modestly cut square neckline and bell-shaped sleeves. Her gown wasn’t designed in the latest Poitevin fashion, like many other ladies would undoubtedly wear tonight; she didn’t care because she never liked provocative clothing from Aquitaine. She put her lovely pearl necklace on her neck; then she clasped an exquisite sapphire brooch on the collar – Robin’s old gift which she treasured more than anything else.

“Perhaps I will see Robin today,” Marian mused aloud, her heart palpitating like a caught bird. As nervousness overcame her, she fiddled with the folds of her skirts. She decreed to herself, “I will be alright.”

Marian was in an agony of anxiety and uncertainty. The meeting with the royal family didn’t unnerve her as much as the chance to meet with Robin. Her former betrothed was away from England in the past several years. Little John acted as his steward and managed his estates. She feared to face Robin, to let him see her all her deep, unwavering feelings for him.

She was surprised to receive an invitation from the Queen Mother a month ago, feeling that there was a reason behind that. Marian’s heart started to beat with thick heavy strokes as she recollected the conversation with King Richard when he had told her that he would help her and Robin find a way back to each other after his mourning for his dead wife. Had she been summoned to court to match make her with Robin? Marian didn’t like such things, but this time, she was elated at the thought of her possible reunion with Robin. If only her beloved still felt something for her!

Marian looked out of the window. The vast garden was in deep snow that weighed down the branches, and the trees looked like they were going to buckle; the Vienne River was entirely frozen. Anjou in the winter was a place where the fragile beauty filled everything with a sense of timelessness and unity with nature. Marian had been in Aquitaine at Prince Richard’s court years ago, but she had never been in Anjou.

She was glad to be at the royal palace on Christmas Eve. In childhood, she had loved Christmas and usually spent with her father and Robin. In the recent years, she had been lonely in Nottingham, although once Allan and Kate – Robin’s half-sister, she reminded herself – had visited her. Once she had attended the Christmas banquet organized by the Sheriff of Nottingham, but she preferred to spend this day with Much’s son, Edward, whom she was raising as her own child, at Knighton Hall which she had rebuilt two years ago.

Soon Marian was walking through the maze of corridors in the splendid castle, her light footsteps echoing in the hallways. The closer she was to the great hall, the more clearly she heard the tumult as the stewards hurried to serve food and drinks; she could also hear a hubbub of Norman- French merry voices. As she stopped near the heavy wooden door, her nerves tightened like a bowstring, and her heart galloped.

A steward politely bowed to Marian and then opened the door for her. She took a step forward but paused as anxiety overwhelmed her. As she took her emotions under control, Marian raised her head high, her expression impassive, and then stepped into the banqueting hall.

Marian found herself in an amazing world: the chamber was illuminated by bright light of torches and candles, and was lavishly adorned with flowers that had been delivered to the castle from a royal orangery. The long tables were heavily laden with platters filled with delicious, mouth-watering food. Many lords and ladies crowded the huge room, all of them dressed in their best jewels and fashionable gowns.

Her gaze fell at the main table served for six people and located near the opposite wall. She recognized King Richard and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine sitting there and talking to Lady Amicia de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester’s elder sister, who occupied the place next to the monarch. There were two more empty places at Eleanor’s right, one of them most likely Robin’s. The courtiers sat at the other three tables lined along the three walls. Having scanned the surroundings, Marian noticed Guy, Megan, and Archer at the table adjacent to the king and the queen’s table. She didn’t see Megan for more than a year because Guy’s wife settled down at Queen Eleanor’s court together with Seth and Hugh, Gisborne’s two sons.

As Guy and Megan noticed her, they beckoned her to come to them. Marian smiled at them and stalked towards their table. She wasn’t Megan’s friend, but she knew that his wife loved Guy beyond measure and made him happy with their small son. Marian wished Guy and his young wife all the best.

Archer stood up as Marian stopped near them. He bowed deeply to her, grinning impudently. “Lady Marian of Knighton, what a great surprise!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to meet you in Anjou!”

Marian found Guy charming in his white doublet with a high collar, the rest of his attire also white; she had liked Guy in black leather, but the color white also suited him quite well. She cast a brief glance at Megan who looked lovely in her tight lavender brocade gown with pearl trim and with a low V-shaped neckline, the sleeves and the front embroidered with gold braid and massive diamonds.

Guy leaped to his feet and bowed to Marian; Marian sent him a welcoming smile. He was glad to see her again, although he didn’t know why she was there. Megan remained seated and only acknowledged her with a single nod; Megan was still jealous to Marian, although her husband gave her no reason to feel that way.

Marian smiled slightly and apprised with deceptive calm, “I didn’t plan to leave Nottingham. I had to leave little Edward with Djaq so that I could travel to Anjou.”

“I am glad to see you, Marian,” Guy said sincerely, smiling brightly.

Her eyes flicking between the two men Marian addressed them, “I hope you are enjoying the moment of peace in between battles.”

Archer’s lips curled in a grin. “It is great to be here instead of the battlefield and the soldiers’ camp,” he said quietly so that nobody could overhear them. “When I lived in an orphanage, I hated Christmas because I always was alone. At present, I love it because I have my two half-brothers with me.”

Guy was in good spirits and inclined to be candid and conversational. “I also hated Christmas after the banishment from Locksley. But I began to like it after marrying Meg!” His gaze slid to his wife. “I would never exchange a Christmas day with my family for anything else.”

Megan flashed a limpid smile, her deep blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “The dark period of your life is long over, Guy. Everything is different now: you have a family who loves and needs you.” As Guy took her hand in his, their fingers laced. “You are not alone anymore.”

Marian’s eyes oscillated between Megan and Guy. “I have always loved Christmas too,” she said shortly.

There was a chuckle from Guy. “Not all my family is here. My two sons are sleeping.”

Archer laughed. “Oh, they are so naughty! It was so difficult to put them to bed today!”

“They are not as disobedient as Richard of Locksley,” Megan interjected; she mentioned Robin’s son to let Marian know that Robin was also at the palace. “Robin spent two hours trying to coax Richard into going to bed.” She let out a laugh. “Our Seth and Hugh fall asleep much more quickly.”

Marian‘s hammered in euphoria mingled with fear. Robin was there! She would see him tonight! “Robin was a rambunctious child.” She struggled to keep her voice devoid of emotions.

Guy eyed Marian as he wondered what his ex-wife felt at the mention of Robin’s son. “Well, Robin and you grew up together. I remember you two always running around together in Locksley and even in the forest despite your young age. You often engaged in wild games, and Sir Malcolm scolded you for that.” He no longer hated Malcolm and could freely speak about the man who had sacrificed himself for Guy.

“Yes,” Marian confirmed with a wistful note.

“Robin is an excellent father and a good role model to other nobles; of course, I don’t mean Guy,” Archer intervened. “I didn’t think that he could be such a devoted father. His heart is so restless!”

A tender smile beautified Marian a lot. “Robin has always loved children.”

Guy felt a pang of guilt as he remembered that once he had sent Seth away, while Robin had saved his son. “Robin knows how to treat children, and they like him.” 

Megan squeezed Guy’s hand; their fingers were still entwined. “Guy, Seth is with us now. You are a doting and loving father to him and to our son,” she put in, guessing his thoughts.

“Thank you.” Guy smiled at his wife; he always was amazed how easily she understood him.

Megan flicked her gaze to Marian and commented lightly, “It is very good to see you here, Lady Marian, and you look incredibly lovely. “We hope that you will like the Christmas banquet. On this joyous day, and throughout the coming year, I wish that your life is filled with an abundance of love and happiness!”

“Thank you,” Marian replied cheerfully. “All the best to you and your families!”

One of the stewards approached them and notified that Marian was invited to the royal table. Marian gaped at the man, heat suffusing her cheeks; she ambled away, her knees trembling.

“Why did you bring Robin’s son to Marian’s attention?” Guy asked Megan curiously.

The hint of a smile graced Megan‘s features. “To let Marian know that Robin is here.”

“Why is she here?” Guy didn’t believe that it happened by chance.

“Queen Eleanor invited her to the court because of Robin,” Megan answered quietly.

Guy smirked. “Ah, I see. Not a bad idea.”

“Stop talking!” Archer poured out three goblets of wine for them. “Let’s drink to happiness and love!”

“For Christmas!” Megan declared with a brilliant smile.

“For Christmas!” Archer and Guy echoed.

Soon Archer began conversing with a beautiful lady, endeavoring hard to charm her. Megan and Guy laughed at Archer who still had absolutely no desire to settle down. A thick veil was lowered between the world and the spouses as they stared at each other as if mesmerized, and time seemed to freeze.

“I love you, Meg,” Guy whispered, his eyes shining with warmth and affection. “My love for you contains all wisdom and happiness I have ever dreamed of having. It holds a magic power that recalls to my mind radiant visions of your sunny smile and your gorgeous eyes when we are not together. I love you more than I can put into words, Meg.” His feelings for Megan wasn’t as obsessive and devastating as the odd feeling he had once experienced for Marian, and he liked this peaceful love the most.

A frown creased her forehead. “As much as you loved Lady Marian?”

A heavy sigh escaped Guy’s lips. “I love you in a different way, Meg.”

“How, Guy?” She wanted to know.

Guy explained, “I loved an idealized Marian who existed only in my head. My feelings were obsessive, selfish, and potentially dangerous; they frequently turned into despair because she couldn’t give me what I thought I needed.” He moved closer to her and tipping her chin up lightly. “As for you, my dear wife, you have to know that you are my real love. My feelings for you are like the impulse which lies dormant in the heart of every man until he meets his soulmate and falls head over heels in love. _Meg, my love for you_ _is the quintessence of my whole life!_ ”

A beatific smile graced Megan’s visage. “Arranged marriages may be happy.”

“Yes, that is true,” he agreed with a nod.

“I love you, Guy,” Megan murmured; she then kissed him on his lips, but it wasn’t a long kiss.

In a handful of heartbeats, Lady Amicia de Beaumont appeared near the table. “Sir Guy and Lady Megan of Gisborne!” Amicia called in Norman-French. “Kissing in public is both tempting and immodest!”

Guy and Megan swiftly pulled away, their eyes focusing on Amicia who looked arresting in her red and gold brocade gown that was cut indecently low and heavily adorned with diamonds and rubies on the front.

“Lady Amicia!” Guy exclaimed. “How good to see you again!”

“My dear Amicia,” Megan greeted with a smile, pleased to see her friend.

Amicia’s mouth curved in a smile. “My dear lovebirds, I arrived in Anjou only a day ago.”

A bewildered Guy noted, “Lady Amicia, I thought that you are still at Prince John’s court.”

Amicia smirked. “Our relationship with John was over three years ago.”

Guy’s expression changed into worry. “Is everything alright, my lady?”

Amicia was beaming. “I am doing very well!”

“Good news, my lady,” he breathed.

Amicia viewed Guy from top to toe, grinning. “Sir Guy, you were Hades, the God of the underworld! However, now you are a white knight! You look dashing despite not wearing my favorite black leather.”

“We associate black leather with Vaisey,” Megan groused. “So, he doesn’t wear it anymore.”

“Let’s forget everything bad! I wish you a merry Christmas!” Then Amicia swiveled and walked over to the table when Queen Eleanor and King Richard seated.

“Prince John discarded her,” Guy assumed, looking at Amicia who seated herself next to King Richard.

Megan chuckled. “She left John because she no longer needs to spy for our king.”

Guy leaned back in his chair. “It is better than I thought.”

“Guy, look at Amicia more attentively,” she whispered into his ear.

Guy watched Amicia glowing with delight as she talked to the monarch. He had never seen her so happy before, and the truth dawned upon him. “She is still a royal mistress.”

Megan murmured, “King Richard is the love of her life, though they don’t make their relationship public; few people know the truth about them.”

“Then she must be happy to be with him now,” he inferred.

“She is over the moon with him.” Megan then stopped a passing servant and requested more wine.

Megan and Guy drank more wine; then she started talking to one of Queen Eleanor’s ladies-in-waiting. Guy looked around, his eyes taking in the stunning tapestries and the grandeur. Although he liked spending time with Megan and her family, he still felt ill at ease at court because of the old mysteries and secrets.

Guy regretted that Roger de Tosny had been sent to Aumale; he also missed Allan who was in Rochdale with Kate and their children, as well as Maggie, Kate’s sister. His gaze wandered across the chamber, and he smiled as his eyes lingered on Marian who automatically sank into a deep, gracious curtsey before the royals. He wished her to find contentment with Robin, like he had found it with Megan.

King Richard dismissed her from her curtsey, and Marian straightened her spine, her eyes taking in the lion’s appearance. Richard wore a purple tunic and matching pants, and a golden coronet adorned his red-gold head. Now the Lionheart looked a bit older, and his face showed hard lines on his forehead and around his mouth. Overall, he still looked regal and handsome, and Marian smiled at her liege amicably.

In a benevolent voice, smiling cordially, Richard affirmed, “Lady Marian, welcome to our court!”

Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine appraised Marian, her lips quirking in a tiny smile. “Lady Marian, we have been waiting for you,” she nearly hummed. “Please, take your place next to us as a guest of honor.”

Marian’s disposition was now more relaxed. “My liege, Your Grace, I thank you for your invitation.”

Marian seated herself at Eleanor’s right, but there was still one empty place between her and the Queen Mother. She then regarded the queen who was dressed in a magnificent gown made of crimson and silver brocade embroidered with rubies and with interwoven gold and silver braids. There was a stylish diamond necklace on her neck, a pair of diamond rings in her ears, and a large diamond tiara on her head. Her silver hair was arranged in a neat bun that exposed the still delicious contour of her neck.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Marian uttered, forcing a smile.

A smile spread over the old lady’s face. “Lady Marian, don’t feel so uneasy! We are not strangers!”

Marian said suavely, “Your Grace, it is not worth your worries.”

“Lady Marian, it was my mother’s idea to invite you to Christmas,” Richard informed without preamble. “I approved of it because we really wanted to see you at our court.”

Eleanor’s eyes danced with mischief. “We suppose you have missed us, Lady Marian.”

Queen Eleanor’s sweet demeanor lifted Marian’s spirits, and she felt more confident. “I remembered you very often, my liege and Your Grace.”

Richard let out a laugh. “It is impossible to forget us!”

“Never ever, Richard,” Eleanor retorted as she sipped some wine. She laughed in contralto: a penetrating sound with something warm in it. “Our legendary Coer de Lion is unforgettable!”

Once more, the king burst out laughing. “Mother, you are even more memorable than me.”

The conversation between Richard, Eleanor, Amicia, and Marian flowed like fluid as they moved from the most recent events to whatever their imaginations allowed. The mood was convivial and merry, and Marian was elated, feeling in her element in the royal company. A diverse selection of the most splendid meal was served: meat, goose, venison, poultry, and pigeon pies, all sorts of French salads, and exotic fruits, as well as the finest wines from the king’s collection.

“You are very beautiful, Lady Marian,” Amicia enthused, drinking wine from her goblet, “although you don’t look like many ladies of the court.”

Marian wondered why Amicia saw so close to Richard. She didn’t know how to interpret Amicia’s words – as a compliment or a veiled jibe; she opted for the first option. “Thank you, Lady Amicia.”

Queen Eleanor glanced at Marian. “Amicia is right, Lady Marian. You are as beautiful and fresh as ever.”

The king spelled out, “Sapphires suit you, Lady Marian. They are the same color as your eyes.”

King Richard was involved in a lively conversation with Amicia. Queen Eleanor and Marian ate in silence for some time, the old lady watching her with interest. The place between Marian and Eleanor still remained unoccupied. Everyone feasted ravenously, and the banquet was very sumptuous: the queen took many of her servants and cooks from Aquitaine to Anjou, so the court life was as unprecedentedly opulent and a bit ostentatious as in Poitiers, but it also was very amusing. 

“Lady Marian,” Queen Eleanor called. As Marian trained her eyes on the queen, she went on, slowly sipping wine. “I hope this feast is to your liking. It is not as good as it could have been if we had celebrated in Poitiers, but Richard cannot travel to Aquitaine at the moment due to his wars.”

Marian smiled. “I have never been in Anjou, and it is my pleasure to be here.”

“We don’t like Chinon because my Henry died here,” the royal lady reminisced with a sigh. “From here, his body was taken to Fontevraud Abbey, and my Richard became king.”

Being aware of what King Henry had done to his wife, Marian emphasized with Eleanor’s sufferings. “We always have something we want to forget in the past.”

With a melancholy air, Eleanor speculated, “It is not always possible. And you, of all women in the world, know what men might do to us women just because they think that we are inferior to them.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Although Marian had been overprotected and sheltered by her father, Vaisey’s brutality had upended her peaceful life, making her grow up quickly and stand up against injustice.

“Do you know why I invited you?” the queen redirected the conversation.

Marian bravely looked into the queen's eyes. “I don’t know, Your Grace. But as I am here now, I will be happy to serve you in any way you deem necessary.”

“Straightforward and practical,” Eleanor assessed with appreciation. “You don’t like wasting time?”

Marian bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to displease you.”

The queen sought to reassure her. “I am really pleased to see you, Lady Marian.”

Marian sipped wine. “Thank you, Your Grace. I am also happy to see you.”

“I know. We liked each other the first time we met.”

“Your Grace…” An amazed Marian set her empty goblet at the table.

The Queen Mother marveled. “God’s mercy! Why are you so astounded? We both are educated, strong, courageous, and independent. We have a lot in common, and you know this.”

“Yes.” Marian was really surprised with the queen’s statement.

A tender smile flitted across Eleanor’s mouth as her mind drifted back to her beloved youngest son. “And there is someone who means to lot to both of us. Or am I mistaken, Lady Marian?”

Queen Eleanor stared in the direction of the door, and a proud smile reigned supreme all over her face. Marian turned her head and saw Robin near the entrance to the great hall, together with Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester; Roger de Lacy and Carter of Stretton stood behind them.

As she watched Robin embrace his old friend and then slowly saunter toward the king and the queen’s table, Marian’s heart was beating in her chest, like water speeding over a cliff and crashing upon the rocks below. Marian admitted, “You are right, Your Grace. Robin has always been on my mind! All these years!”

The queen viewed it with extreme delight. “Do you still want to marry my son?”

Marian was a bit dizzy from the sheer exhilaration that was pumping through her veins. “Oh, yes! I would like that above all things!”

§§§

With a painful twist in her heart, Marian trembled as her mind drifted back to Melisende’s death when Robin’s wife had voiced her approval of Marian and Robin‘s matrimony. Was Robin still in love with his wife? With great effort, Maria wrenched her thoughts away from the past and concentrated on the present.

“Robin is here,” Marian said breathlessly, her heart aching with longing for him.

“He is the reason why we invited you,” Eleanor told the young woman. She smiled at Marian, and then directed her gaze at Robin. “Isn’t my Robin handsome?”

As Marian scrutinized Robin, she remarked that he looked still younger than his age, and his face kept his devilish, boyish charm that swept women off their feet. Involuntarily, Marian drew a breath of relief that grief hadn’t made him look older. Robin looked really dashing in his azure brocade doublet with a high collar embroidered with jewelry and in his matching pants and silk shirt. There was a mischievous curve to Robin’s mouth and a teasing sparkle in the pale blue eyes that made him particularly appealing, and jealousy flamed through Marian at the thought of how many women pursued Robin in the years of their separation. And how many of them he probably bedded!

Dressed in green court attire, the Earl of Leicester followed Robin, with Carter and Roger trailing behind the two of them. Leicester and Robin’s other friends were greeted by others while Robin kept walking. 

“He hasn’t changed at all,” Marian observed.

“Robin has changed,” Eleanor objected, notes of sadness creeping into her voice. “He hasn’t found peace yet; he is a disillusioned idealist.”

Marian pulled her gaze from Robin to the Queen Mother. “Is he feeling better now?”

The queen reflected sorrowfully, “Robin does his duty to his liege, but that doesn’t make him content. Happiness is not serving your country and king dutifully and well; it is holding someone in your arms and knowing you possess the whole world.”

Marian’s eyes flew to Eleanor, puzzlement obvious in their depths. “Your Grace, I am not really sure that Robin does still care for me. I heard that–” She broke off as she recalled a wife of a lord from Nottingham gossiping about Robin’s affairs in Aquitaine.

Eleanor claimed, “There is only one woman who can make Robin content – you.”

As her brain registered the queen’s statement, Marian flitted her gaze to Robin. She observed King Richard pull Robert de Beaumont into his arms. Queen Eleanor explained that Leicester had spent more than two years in the French captivity and had only recently been released thanks to Robin’s efforts. Then Amicia de Beaumont rushed to her beloved brother, engulfing him into a tight embrace. Richard and Robin froze in an affectionate embrace; then the king hugged Roger de Lacy and Carter of Stretton in turns.

Robin approached the table. He smiled at the Queen Mother and bowed to her, but she quickly dismissed him from formalities. Then he bowed to Marian deeply, and his attentive eyes peered into Marian’s face.

“What a meeting, Lady Marian!” Robin exclaimed and flashed a cheeky smile. “There are so many flowers in this room, but you are the most delicious flower.”

Marian gave Robin a slow, dazzling smile; she missed his sense of wit so much. “Lord Robin, you always come to feasts too late, like when you were eighteen.”

Queen Eleanor chuckled. “Robin was a little late twice on Richard’s coronation. But this is Robin, and we shouldn’t be astonished.” She pointed at the empty place between Marian and herself.

As he seated himself into a high-back chair, Robin feigned a guilty look and spoke in a teasing lilt. “Your Grace, I beg your pardon for doing everything not as normal people do. I am sorry if I disappointed you! ”

King Richard turned to Robin and jested, “It is always so hard to articulate love, yet so easy to express disappointment! But I can express only love when it comes to voicing my feelings for my dear Robin!”

Robin’s rejoinder followed. “The soul is healed from disappointments by laughing them off!”

They burst out laughing, and their merriments knew no bounds at the moment.

Queen Eleanor noted with conviction, “Yes, Robin, you are one-of-a-kind.”

With an endearing innocence, Robin smiled. “Yes, I am, Your Grace.”

“Like me,” the queen said proudly.

“Like you,” Robin agreed as he sipped some red wine.

Marian smiled at Robin. She was happy for him as Robin and Eleanor had already formed more a bond of friendship. Unknown to Marian, Robin was thinking about the same things, feeling how happy he was to see the Queen Mother alive and healthy. In the past few years, he had become emotionally attached to her: Robin had never called her “mother”, for it was still too foreign for him, but they had become close friends, and the queen didn’t ask him for anything else.

Robert de Beaumont bowed to Marian. “Lady Marian, it is a pleasant surprise to meet you here.” His eyes darted between Robin and Marian. “I trust you will entertain my friend on Christmas.”

A blush stained Marian’s cheeks. “Lord Leicester, I am sorry, but–”

Robin cut Marian off and glared at Robert. “Robert, be more courteous.”

Queen Eleanor laughed. “Robert, neither death nor captivity will ever change you.”

“Never, Your Grace,” the Earl of Leicester retorted with a facetious smile. With feigned innocence, he stared at Robin and teased, “My little bird, please don’t scold me!” His expression changed into despair as he cried, “Robin, I have missed you so much! I thought that you would embrace me and never let me go!”

Robin smiled mirthfully. “You cannot imagine how much I have missed you, my friend. When you again fight with the French, you should be more careful! You gave us such a scare!”

Leicester uttered apologetically, “I didn’t plan to be captured.”

“Be more careful next time, Robert,” the king preached. “It was more than enough.”

“Our liege is right, brother,” Amicia interjected. “You are a great military commander, but everyone can make mistakes.” She had been horrified to learn that her dear Richard had been captured in Austria; it had been a shock that he brother had been captured by the French as well.

Robert sighed. “I know, sister,” he told Amicia. “It will never happen again.”

“I think it is better to celebrate,” Robin proposed.

“Indeed,” Marian agreed.

King Richard waved his hand for silence, a large smile on his face. “My dear friends, today we have gathered here to celebrate Christmas,” he declared as he swept his eyes over the banqueting hall. “We are also greeting Sir Robert de Beaumont, the Earl of Leicester, at our court! He is finally back to us after long negotiations led by Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon!”

The guests cheered the Earl of Leicester’s return. Leicester and Huntingdon were two beloved favorites of King Richard. Roger de Lacy and Carter of Stretton were especially vocal in expressing their joy. Guy, Archer, and Megan were quiet, sitting close to the king and the queen’s table and simply watching.

Queen Eleanor promulgated, “We hope that you all know how much we value your friendship. May the light of love shine upon you, and may your life be filled with blessings in the coming year.”

Robin listened to the king’s and the queen’s wishes to everyone, as if the great hall were full of friends and comrades. He didn’t like the pretense that was part of royal life. Slowly drinking red wine, he turned to Marian. “Nothing will ever change in the world. Many of these people once supported the Black Knights.”

“Later, they will support Prince John again,” Marian opined, also sipping wine.

Robin almost choked on his wine; he set the goblet on the table. “We will all have to swear fealty to Prince John when he becomes King of England.” Richard was still not old, and Robin hoped that his liege and brother would have a long life and reign.

She measured Robin with a curious glance. “Will you do that?”

Robin sighed tiredly. “My son is a Plantagenet. I will never deprive him of his inheritance.”

“I understand,” Marian answered, thinking that it wasn’t easy for him at all.

Eleanor tore her gaze from Richard and glanced at Robin. “Robin, you shouldn’t worry about John,” she asserted. “Your relationship improved over the years, and you are no longer enemies.” She gave Robin a reassuring smile. “John will do nothing to you.”

King Richard interrupted his conversation with Robert and Amicia; he slid his eyes to his brother. “Robin, my mother is right. Have you forgotten what Melisende asked John to do for you?”

Robin heaved a sigh. “It is impossible to forget about that.”

The king advised, “Robin, enjoy the banquet and don’t worry.”

“Of course, sire.” Robin looked down at his platter full of fish and venison.

Marian cast a curious glance at Robin, thinking that there was something serious behind the king’s hints. Richard renewed talking to Robert and Amicia, enjoying the company of the Beaumont siblings. Eleanor and Robin also conversed quietly, watching Robert’s reunion with Richard and Amicia.

Robin’s attention focused on Marian. Although his face was impassive like a haughty courtier’s, she aroused very powerful emotions in him. When he had seen her sitting at the main table, he had sucked in his breath at the sight of her, his mind teeming with the erstwhile images. She was as breathtaking as a vibrant sunset, a forest nymph who haunted his dreams swathed in the darkness of wars and in the happiness which he experienced in adolescence. Marian was still an elfin creature of ephemeral beauty that was all the tender ghosts of ideals, remembered and cherished in the deep recesses of Robin’s heart.

A smile twitched at the corners of Robin’s mouth. “Marian, you are the most beautiful lady in this room.”

Her surprise was evident in the gasp that came from her. “Robin, why are you saying this to me?”

His eyes sparkling, he sent her a carefree grin. “I once told you that I like when you look at me in anger. Perhaps I like to infuriate you and then to watch you calm down.”

Sipping wine, Marian rolled her eyes at him. “You are as conceited and full of yourself as ever, Robin. Always the great Earl of Huntingdon?” she asked with a look of indignation, although there was a playful smile on her lips. “Your charms as they are ceased working on me years ago.”

Feeling chastened, Robin lamented, “Not as great as you think.” His gaze slid to the sapphire brooch clasped to the collar of her gown. “Really?”

She frowned. “What?” She looked at the brooch. Shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny, she asked helplessly, “Does it please you that I am wearing it?”

“I am happy that you still treasure my old gifts.” He smiled tenderly; it was a smile which he had given Marian in the happiest moments of their lives.   

“I am still keeping some things that remind me of the old life,” she confessed.

The gleam of a bittersweet nostalgia entered his eyes, and Robin sighed.  “Good old life, good old England,” he drawled. “The old life is gone forever.”

There was an air of timelessness about Marian as she conjectured, “Something good always remains.”

Robin and Marian slowly drank wine, looking into each other’s eyes, as they chattered away for a long time. King Richard and Queen Eleanor smiled at them in approval.

Marian’s tranquil features flushed with the love she obviously felt for him. Robin’s own heart swelled with devotion, a vivacious smile curved his mouth, and he murmured, “Sapphires suit you, Marian. I always liked giving you sapphires when I courted you.”

Marian smiled shyly. “The king‘s opinion concurs with yours.”

“Our liege is right. He has a great taste.”

“Perhaps.” She sipped wine.

Robin regarded her with a fascinated expression which he quickly smoothed into neutrality. But his eyes were shining as he stated rapturously, “Marian, you have become even more beautiful in the last three years. You have become more female, and I like it very much. All the changes I see are for the better.”

Marian commented, “Robin, you have modified your old drill. It already sounds old-fascinated.” In a teasing manner, she made a riposte, “Have something happened to your talents of wooing women?”

Robin drew his fingers through his sandy hair, as if coercing some of his wavy curls to be smooth. “I have grown up and modified my old drill, as you say,” he retorted with a wicked grin. “If I am anchored on a resolve, I swear you will be shaken to your very inner being, but it will be a gorgeous shaking.”

“What does that mean, Robin?”

With an elegant movement of his hand, Robin brought a goblet to his lips. “I can do many things, and soon you will see what I mean, my nymph of Sherwood Forest.”

Marian let out a smile. “This is one of the most ridiculous things you have ever said.”

His grin widened. “But you like what I say.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no.”

“Confess it, Marian,” he challenged. “I know the truth.”

“I do like it,” she conceded. “But don’t be too conceited, or you will pay for that!”

Robin laughed airily, and Marian reveled in the sound of his vibrant laughter that made her suddenly want to laugh too. His laughter had always been contagious, but it was also mysterious: he could laugh without betraying anything he really felt, and she knew that very well. Yet, she could see much restraint in Robin’s demeanor which she hadn’t seen in him in Nottingham.

Robin flicked his gaze to the king. “My liege, shall we start?”

The king and the queen turned to Robin; the others stopped speaking.

Richard chuckled. “Of course, Robin. Right now.”

Robert de Beaumont arched his brow. “Is it what I think, sire?”

“Naturally, Robert,” the lion confirmed, his lips curled in a smile. “It is a great Christmas day!”

Queen Eleanor raised her hand, signaling silence in the great hall. “Now our king, Robin, and Robert will sing! Listen and enjoy!” she declared, looking at her most beloved royal son; then she glanced at Robin, happy to be surrounded by her two sons.

That elicited cries of festive excitement from the guests. Richard the Lionheart was not only the greatest warrior in Christendom but also a troubadour himself. Richard was known for his passion for the arts and music, especially the art of troubadours; he also composed songs and poems. But the king rarely performed something in front of his courtiers, and it was considered a very rare event.

Robin drained his goblet. “We will show everyone a marvel!”

Robert broke into a laugh. “Surely, Robin! Little birds can twitter so well!”

Marian gazed between Robin and Robert, for the first time in many eyes not thinking that the Earl of Leicester resented her. She liked listening to the verbal duels between Robin and Robert and admired their unparalleled sense of wit. There was a lightness in her heart shining through to her eyes, and there was hope for the future too.

Queen Eleanor stood up, and Marian followed suit. Marian stared in startled awe at King Richard who beckoned Robin and Robert to encircle him from both sides. Richard wrapped his right arm around Robin’s back, his left arm around Robert’s back, embracing his two grand favorites. Eleanor snapped her fingers, and several musicians appeared on a balcony on the opposite side of the great hall.

Blondel de Nesle began to play the lute, and King Richard started singing in Occitan the song _Peire Vidal’s song “Ges quar estius”_. (“ _Though spring’s glorious_ ”). Marian was amazed how well Richard could sing, his voice strong, vital, and yet melodious. She remembered how Melisende and Robin had sung in Occitan at the court of love several years ago, and now she again thought that Robin sang quite well, but he was mainly supporting the king; the same was fair to say about Robert de Beaumont.

_Ges quar estius_

_Es bels e jens_

_Non sui jauzens,_

_Qu'us marrimens_

_Me ven de lai,_

_Don soli'aver mon cor gai!_

_Per que pretz pauc abril e mai,_

_Quar sella.m torn'en nonchaler,_

_Qui.m sol honrar e car tener._

_E s'ieu pert mas bonas chansos,_

_Los bells digz ni.ls avinens sos,_

_Qu'ieu solia per s'amor far,_

_No sai de que.m dej'alegrar._

“Lady Marian, do you know Occitan?” Queen Eleanor whispered.

Marian nodded. “I cannot speak it, but I can understand it quite well.” She had begun learning Occitan after Robin’s departure. She was interested in Aquitaine and Robin’s southern inheritance though Eleanor.

The queen looked as mysterious as the moon. “Then listen and think about this song.”

An enraptured Marian felt her heart pounding harder as she began to silently translate the song. “ _Though spring’s glorious, Lovely and sweet, I’m not complete, Painful defeat, Is mine today, Through her who holds my heart in play; So I prize not April or May, For she blithely turns away, One I honour and love always,” the words sank into Marian’s head. “And if I’ve lost my songs so sweet, Those fair words and fine melodies, I used to make when love was there, Happiness is I know not where_.”

Marian often intercepted Robin’s heated glances at her, and her gaze held his, as if in spellbound trance. In the glowing candlelight, Robin seemed the same young man she had fallen in love with in childhood, and she tumbled into a pleasurable ecstasy of sheer delight, enjoying the lingering and sweet tunes, agreeing with every verse they sang.

_Anc natz ni vius_

_No.lh frais covens_

_Ni mandamens,_

_Mas quar trop lens_

_Torniei en sai,_

_O.l sieus bells cors sojorn'e jai!_

_Per que tem lauzengier savai,_

_Qui fa drutz e domnas doler_

_E joi baissar e dechazer,_

_Que me.n fosson contrarios._

_Mas quar sui del celar ginhos,_

_Degr'esser mielhs mos pretz, so.m par!_

_Mas ochaizos si vol trobar._

Robin winked at her, and Marian felt as if the two of them were the only people in the chamber who were breathing, like greenery in an otherwise empty landscape. There was a touch of romance in what was happening to Robin and Marian, a touch of something that resurrected the strength of youth and made them so very alive, as if the cosmic dust of woes had been shaken out of them.  “ _Not once have I thus Broken accord, Order ignored, Unless I’m floored, Too low to grace, Her lovely body’s dwelling place; So I fear slanderers have their say, Who cause ladies and lovers dismay, Lower us, and drive all joy away, And each and every way harm me,” she mentally translated for herself. “Yet, as I hide my love cleverly, My worth shall seem more than it is; Still, opportunity I miss_.”

“Why are they performing this song?” Marian inquired, looking at Queen Eleanor.

The Queen Mother allegorized, “Those who hide their love or reject it miss many opportunities.”

Marian didn’t answer, but she figured out the queen’s hint. Robin and she missed many opportunities to be together and resolve their differences: if they had done that long ago, Robin wouldn’t have ended up in an arranged marriage and would have married Marian instead. Now she and Robin had a chance again.

_Anc non ac grius_

_Ta mals talens_

_Ni tan cozens,_

_Segon parvens,_

_Cum cilh qu'ieu sai:_

_Per qu'ieu n'ai dolor et esmai_

_Tal que per pauc los huelhs no.m trai,_

_Quant la vei, e.m fai si temer,_

_Que neis parlar no.lh aus plazer._

_E doncs pus mos plaitz no.lh es bos,_

_Remanha cum s'anc res no fos,_

_Qu'ieu no la puesc de ren forsar_

_Mas quan de bendir e d'amar._

Marian’s eyes met Robin’s, and his impish smile apprised her of the fact that he was thinking of her. “ _No Greek among us Has dealt such pain, Cruelty plain, I would maintain, As that I’ve seen: In such misery and fear I’ve been, My eyes scarcely move it seems, When I see her, fear so extreme, Sweet, gracious words lacking I mean,” the words registered in Marian’s mind. “Since with pleasure I’m out of tune, And nothing can I force her to, For I know that I’ll win nothing, Except by praising, and by loving_.”

Eleanor’s lips were arranged in a smile. “Robin knows that he will win nothing if he continues to mourn his wife, except by loving someone – loving you.”

Her heart hammering like chimes, Marian realized that Robin had chosen the song for the performance with the king and Robert for her. A sensation of pure elation pulsed through her, shoving everything else away, as she listened to the high, dulcet notes of the song.

All eyes in the chamber were glued to Richard, Robin, and Robert, who sang several more couplets, and then, finally, moved on to the final verse. But only Marian and Eleanor, as well as these three men, knew that there was a sacred sense in this song: Robin of Locksley was still alive and was zealous to find peace.

_Na Vierna, molt m'es amar,_

_Car soven no.us puesc remirar._

_Senher N'Agout, no.us sai lauzar,_

_Mas de vos dauri mon chantar._

Marian again caught Robin’s amorous gaze at her. “ _My Vierna, bitter it is, The sight of you I often miss. Lord Agout, though scant praise is this, You’ll gild my song, such as it is_ ,” were the last words of this gorgeous song. The last verse proved that Robin missed her during their separation, and she relished in the thought that he might feel more for her than just lust, that he might still love her.

With the last tune, a clamor of applause burst out. King Richard bowed to the audience, and so did Robin and Robert. Robin looked at Marian and winked at her, as if he had a penchant for intrigue tonight, and a vivifying warmth was slowly seeping into her veins.

§§§

As Robin approached Marian, Queen Eleanor rose to her feet and sauntered over to Richard and Robert who were surrounded by the courtiers asking the king to sing again. Robin extended his hand to Marian and led her to the exit; they passed by Guy, Megan, and Archer who were engaged in a lively conversation with others, who all hoped that Marian and Robin would reconcile on the Christmas night.

Many courtiers peered at Marian and Robin in astonishment. Tomorrow, the court would be buzzing with news about the Earl of Huntingdon leaving with his former betrothed in the middle of the feast.

Marian and Robin slipped out of the great hall, and he led her along the hallway, then turned to the left and headed to the opposite part of the chateau. They climbed a steep spiral staircase and entered a tower, where they found themselves in the labyrinth of corridors, their footsteps echoing as they moved.

Robin stopped near the door, looking at Marian in anticipation. They stared at each other for a long moment. As she realized where Robin had taken her, Marian stared broodingly into the yellow flames of the torches that hung on a nearby wall.

“This is one of the few places where we can talk,” she heard Robin’s steady voice.

Marian swung her gaze to Robin. “This is your bedchamber.”

Robin’s lips stretched into a grin. “Has the Nightwatchman become a coward?”

A challenging glint in her eyes, she parried, “Of course not. Let’s go inside.”

“The old days are not entirely gone,” he teased.

Her lips arched in a smile. “It seems that they are not.”

Robin pushed the door open and let Marian enter; he then followed her. Marian eyed the chamber that was illuminated by a couple of flaring torches; the servant had lit them in his absence. There was a marble frieze of lions below the high ceiling; stone walls were swathed in expensive tapestries of hunting scenes and battles, tactfully bordered by emblems of the Angevin crown, and on the wall opposite the spacious window, there was a painting of the discovery of the Christ Resurrection. A magnificent canopy bed, which was draped in deep gold silks and carved with oak leaves and vines, dominated the room, and pieces of antique furniture were scattered about. There was also one gigantic fireplace and one living room in an alcove.

Robin regarded her heedfully. “I hope you are not feeling uncomfortable, Marian.” He then lit several candles, and their light cheered them both a little.

As he took a step to her, Marian scrutinized him, a fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. “If you wanted to make me feel… strange, you have achieved your goal, Robin.”

He sighed. “I am sorry if I did something wrong. I just wanted to talk.”

Marian nodded wordlessly, and Robin stared into her eyes for a long moment without a twitch of an eyelid. Despite his love for Melisende, the largest part of Robin’s heart always belonged to this beautiful nymph of Sherwood Forest – to his Marian. Melisende was dead, but Marian was alive, and at this very moment, Robin completely removed a mourning veil from his face. He wished to take Marian into his arms and tell her that he loved her passionately and unconditionally, wanted to share the future with her as man and wife, and would be delighted to have a child with her.

Marian's keen mind was comparing this new Robin with the old Robin. She didn’t forget Robin’s anguished words spoken in the moonlit garden in Poitiers that he had regretted that Vaisey hadn’t killed him instead of Much. She didn’t forget Robin’s heartbroken gaze on the day of Melisende’s death and his stoic demeanor, although inside he had been breaking. How much was left of the old Robin in him?

“You and I experienced many tragedies and hardships,” he began after a long pause. “Many times, we both I were on the brink of death, but we survived.”

Marian gave a nod. “But we are alive, and we are here.”

Robin’s expression evolved into vulnerability as he laid his heart bare to her. “During the last few years, I was dead inside,” he said in a hollow voice, gazing into her eyes. “When… my wife died, I didn’t want to live in this world, thinking that evil that always triumphs over good, which often happens despite our wishes.”

 His soul-stirring words were like oil upon a flame; it enveloped her from head to foot with a leap. Marian stepped to him and, reverently, got out, “Robin, I am eternally indebted to God that you are alive and healthy. You survived through hell, but you are alive!”

Robin gently caressed her cheek. “But we lost too much.”

“I know, Robin. I know.”

“Melisende and Much died for me, and I didn’t save them.”

Marian shook her head. “Robin, I know how painful it is, but they are gone.”

He sighed with resignation. “I accepted their deaths.”

“I understand.” It was all she could say on the matter.

Robin averted his gaze, as if it was too painful to look at her. “Much was right that he loved me more than I loved him. I didn’t deserve the deep love and loyalty he gave me willingly throughout many years. I should have done more for him, and I should have treated him better.”

She couldn’t accept his admission without demur. “You did everything you could for Much: you gave him his freedom and elevated him to the rank of landed nobility.” She smiled at him as he glanced back at her. “You loved him and took care of him in the way few other noblemen care about their servants. You could be more attentive to Much, but you were very busy, saving England, King Richard, Queen Eleanor, and the whole world; Much understood that and supported you.”

“I should have remembered about his son more often,” he persisted.

“Robin, I wrote you that Eve had died, and that Lady Glasson had brought Much’s son to Locksley. I decided to take care of the boy because you had many other pressing issues to handle.”

The powerful emotions of tart guilt and deep-seated heartache clashed within Robin. “It was selfish of me to forget about Much’s only son while I was wallowing in my grief. I should have made the boy my ward.”

Marian allayed, “You cannot always save and help everyone. You also need time for yourself too.”

Robin needed reassurance. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Very few people understand me,” he complained. “But it is mostly my own fault.”

Indeed, Robin had rarely allowed her to look into his soul, which had alienated her from him when she hadn’t understood his loyalty to the king and England. “You want to seem invincible, but it is not true.”

He looked at her with eyes full of endless sadness. “There is no woman in the world who knows how… much pain I am keeping in my heart.”

“Robin…” A trail of tears trickled down her cheeks. In all their years, she had never seen him so obviously distressed. “I cannot look at you when you are in such great despair and are hurting so much.”

He smiled plaintively and confessed, “I am much better now than a few years ago. Like a sunset spreads a glowing gold tinge over the earth and then the sun dies, the old world faded, and shadows overcame me. My head is no longer full of charming illusions.”

“Same here, Robin. I do really understand you.”

Robin smiled slightly. “I know, Marian.” He took a step to her. His heart knocking painfully against his ribs, he avouched, “Then I realized that something remains, and that I want to live.”

“And what?” she breathed.

He cupped her face and glanced into her eyes. “We remain – you and I.”

Staring into his unfathomable blue eyes, Marian gasped, “You and I?”

“Yes,” he confirmed quietly. “Together we are stronger.”

His intense, warm gaze enthralled her, and her thoughts slipped off to some celestial land, from where reality was excluded. Marian had never seen his countenance so unguarded, and his eyes twinkled in mystification. Their eyes were glowing with the glorious fire of their immortal devotion and egregious exaltation which nothing could quench in their souls, which grew brighter with every passing moment. There was a tremor in the air, some thrill of excitement running from body to body, from heart to heart.

Her face in his hands, Robin bore his gaze into hers. “Marian, you might not like what I will say. I loved Melisende, and part of my heart belongs to her. My wife gave me a son, and _this bond lasts beyond death_.”

His statement struck her like a thunderbolt that fell from the sky, and suddenly all was dark around her forever. “She will always stand between you and me.”

Robin kissed her lightly on the lips and promised, “No, she won’t.”

Her eyes big with wonder, Marian breathed, “What?”

Robin plucked a strand of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Clothed in an aura of sincerity and devotion, looking into her eyes, he confessed, “I have always loved you, Marian.”  A familiar expression of guilt tightened his lips as words escaped him. “More than my wife.” A sigh tumbled from his lips. “In fact, I suspect that _I never knew the real Melisende_ and loved all the good qualities in her she allowed me to see.”

All the emotions of gladness, longing, and worship were blazingly revealed in her eyes that sparkled like myriads of glittering sapphires. She was bewildered that he spoke about his wife in this whimsical way, but all her energy was channeled not into analyzing Robin’s relationship with Melisende but into her own future with him. Tears sprang into her eyes, and her heart pounded frenetically in her chest. “Robin, I have always loved you. I tried to forget you, but I failed. You are always with me, in my heart.”

“Do you really love me?” He was fearful of having misheard her.

Marian smiled at him through tears and exclaimed, “I do love you more than life itself, Robin!”

Robin smiled jovially. “Then we will be together.” He took his hand away from her face. He uttered with every possible inflection of the injured heart, “During all these years, I couldn’t allow myself to think that I could marry again as it seemed a betrayal, and I was punishing myself for Melisende’s death.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Robin.”

“I still feel guilty,” he delivered. “I should have known better that Vaisey would try to trap us again.”

Her heart somewhere in her throat, Marin reiterated, “It is not your fault.”

Robin was inordinately grateful to her. “You are being most kind, my love.”

“I am being truthful.” Her heart soared when he called her his love.

As his arms snaked around her waist, Robin bent his head down and kissed her on the mouth ardently, his tongue arousing the primeval passion which seemed as old, phenomenal, and lustful between them as the passion between Adam and Eve. Robin’s hands held her shoulders as he deepened the kiss, and as the urgency of it leaped through her, Marian tightened her arms instinctively around his neck. It was a long, intoxicating kiss that neither of them wanted to end. She hadn’t felt such insatiable hunger for him, and he didn’t respond to her with such fervor even when he had taken her maidenhead in the woods on the day of her father’s death at the hands of Canon of Birkley.

Robin’s hand pulled the pins from her long hair, and it tumbled in wild profusion down her back. “Marian, you are exquisite.”

A jealous Marian confronted him. “Better than your other lovers, Robin?”

He had the decency to look guilty. “I have loved only you and my wife. Others didn’t mean anything to me; I needed them to alleviate my pain.”

Marian probed, “Do you want to take away your pain with me tonight?”

Robin shook his head. “Nothing of the sort.”

He walked over to a bedside table and took a jewel box. As he returned to Marian, he opened it, and Marian gaped at the exquisite silver ring, its sapphire center carved in the shape of a flower, three small oval cut diamonds set around the sapphire. It was her old engagement ring which she had thrown into Robin’s face when he had voiced his decision to fight in the Holy Land.

“How is that possible?” She used to think that the ring had been lost in the clearing in the forest during their last meeting in Sherwood before Robin’s departure.

“I returned to that clearing and found it with me after you had left,” he enlightened, and a triumphant smile curved his lips. “I took this ring with me to the Holy Land, thinking that it would probably be my talisman in battles. It was with me when I was recovering from the wound Vaisey inflicted on me.”

An exhilarated Marian cried out, “Incredible! I thought that it was lost forever!”

“You were mistaken, my love.”

She recalled, “You once told me that this ring belonged to your mother who died in childbirth.”

He nodded. “It is true. It belonged to Queen Eleanor years ago, but she didn’t die.”

She was surprised, but the revelation didn’t quite interest her. “Why do I need this ring?”

Robin knelt in front of her and took her hand in his; he then slipped the ring onto her finger. “Marian of Knighton, will you marry me? Will you be with me in sickness and in health? Will you spend with me and with my bow the rest of our lives?”

Marian chortled at his pun. “At least now you don’t compare me with your weapon.”

“Yes, it is not over a fresh grave.” It was an apprehensive thing to propose to her over the grave of the king’s one-legged messenger.

“Do you think we are doomed to be together, of course, with your bow too?”

Robin grinned at her. “I am Robin Hood, and I need my bow.”

A broiling heat clawing up through her belly, she claimed, “Surely!”

“Is that a yes or no?” There was a slight tremble in his voice as he spoke.

Her smile shone brighter, her heart blossoming like a rose in full bloom. An exultant cry of joy rose up from deep within her. “Robin, I will marry you even if I have to sleep with your bow between us.”

“I would be a better companion than my bow, Marian,” he murmured in a throaty voice.

A jubilant Robin climbed to his feet and pulled her into his arms. He wanted her more than every breath he drew, and he was breathtakingly aware that she wished him to be with her, wanted once more to know the rapture of his intoxicating lovemaking. He unlaced her gown from the back, kissing her on the lips, and she didn’t resist, her other hand tangled in his hair. In a frenzy of hot kisses and caresses, they discarded their clothes and stood stark nude, their breathing labored, their eyes stormy with desire. Robin carried Marian to the bed and lowered her down; he lay on the bed next to her, and perused her.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his assessing gaze utterly charmed.

“A warning.” Propping herself up on one elbow, her face only inches from his, she stared at him and stipulated, “There should be only me, Robin. No other women.”

A crooked smile curving his mouth, Robin whispered truthfully, “I always was faithful to you when we were together.  There can be no one else in my life, Marian.” He kissed her neck tenderly. “Only you.”

“Robin,” she groaned his name.

They surrendered to a kiss that left them breathless, his hands skillfully stroking her curves, evoking a heightened awareness in every part of her body. His mouth began a fiery exploration as he was dropping passionate kisses on the lids of her eyes, the lobe of her ear, and the sensitive area where her neck joined her shoulder, while she enjoyed the scratch of his stubble against her skin. He lingered on her collarbone a moment as his tongue caressed the silken flesh before his lips kissed the spot where her pulse beat madly beneath the skin. Her small breasts jutted out impudently from her chest as Robin caressed them.

Grinning knavishly, Robin lifted his head and observed with male satisfaction the flush of desire that shaded Marian’s cheekbones, and the passion-dazed expression of her half-closed eyes. “I love and want you, Marian,” he whispered. As she opened her eyes, he added vehemently, “You are the love of my life.”

“You are the love of my life, Robin,” Marian echoed breathlessly, desperately fighting back the almost overpowering urge to burst into tears of happiness, joy, and pleasure.

“You are beautiful everywhere, my love.” His ravenous tongue filled her mouth, and, gently, his hand moved down her abdomen and slipped between her thighs, and Marian gasped.

His words were as potent as the exorbitant caresses he was lavishing on her slender body in abundance, and Marian was writhing in wild, epicurean pleasure, her loins throbbing and yearning for his possession. Robin was thoroughly aroused, every fiber of his being searingly craving her, and yet, he was trying to prolong the moments of their pleasure, resisting the overpowering impulse to bury himself deep within her and to experience again the ambrosial exultation of being one with her. Under his tantalizing sensual assault, Marian was arching her body up, clinging to Robin’s hands like a skin to a human body, like he was her last breath of air and she was drowning.

All her sensuality aroused by him, Marian returned his passionate kisses, her fire and the need for him driving him insane with the fierce desire to possess her again. Her hips were swaying as she was grinding her body into Robin’s, and her quiet moans were steadily becoming more pronounced. Her breasts felt full and were aching with the tautness of her nipples, her lips desperate for the touch of his. An enamored Marian was thirsty for being united with him in the ageless carnal act as much as she had never wished before. Unable to take it any longer, she straddled him, her long, dark hair as if enclosing the two of them in a cloistered arbor drowning in the darkness of night, only her eyes sparkling like a moon.

“Marian, you are very bold.” Robin stared at her in amazement, although his face split in a grin in a split second, but she deciphered a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

“My Robin, I love you now more than ever,” Marian whispered, her eyes a vivid blue in the candlelight. “I cannot love anyone as deeply as I love you.”

Robin swallowed hard. “Thank you,” he retorted.

Marian slid her hand along the light gusting on Robin’s chest and stared in fascination at the play of light on his flesh. As her hand touched his stomach, she paused as her gaze fell on the puckered scar from the wound inflicted on him by Vaisey. Then she examined the ugly scar from Guy’s blade on his left side.

“No!” Robin covered his abdomen with his palm. He had never allowed his lovers to touch his scars.

She took his hand away, shaking her head. “I want to touch you here.”

“It is a reminder.” His voice sounded pained.

“You are wrong, Robin.” A moan of anguished denial broke from her, and she expostulated, “These scars show how much you have done for England and for Richard – for your country and for your brother. They are symbols of the greatest sacrifices which nobody else can do.”

“This makes it more bearable.”

Marian kissed each of his scars, her lips lingering on the marks of his sufferings; this time, he permitted her to do that. “I love you, Robin, with all your scars that are not imperfections.”

The bed curtains formed a silken cocoon about them, and the flickering candlelight played over their naked forms. Marian leaned down over him, still sitting on top of him, and their mouths met in a searing kiss. Then Robin invaded her with one powerful movement, and her body trembled from the sweetness of that intrusion, eager to have all of him, to be his until doomsday. In their embrace, they sat motionless for a moment, Robin embedded within her, they both dazed from the perfection of their togetherness.

Marian moaned in pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him, one of her hands feverishly running over the muscled back. Wanting desperately to slightly delay the release, at first Robin made love to her gently, kissing her with innate tenderness, worshipping the depths of her mouth with his tongue, his body thrust into hers. She arched her back and moved her hips, desperately wanting to take him deeper into her sheath. Her movements goaded him into action, the headiness of their kisses growing and the rhythm of his thrusts increasing, their bodies meeting and parting with a salacious wildness.

The lovers coveted this sweet intimacy to last, but the demanding ache in their bodies was slowly pushing them to the very brink of the passionate Armageddon. Marian thoroughly explored his body, as if she wanted to make up for all the years of waiting in a single night, and her unfettered initiatives were almost his undoing. So, he stilled her and caught her lips in a bruising kiss, and then he pulled her down, letting her drape herself on top of him. Robin increased the tempo and the strength of his strokes, and Marian rocked her hips against his, quickening her pace too. Their mouths were connected with such startling intimacy that they felt as if they had completed a circuit.

Their dance of love was fabulous, fiery, and possessive at once, like a tempestuous ocean that carried them on rolling waves away from the universe of earthly things. All seemed as bright as the blinding sunlight, and their bodies were so unbearably hot, as if they were burning in the cauldron of water heated by the blazing sun. Marian and Robin were in a magical land of passion, which ancient gods of love made vast and full of wonders. As their movements grew more frenzied and the entrancement of sensual dizziness seized their whole beings, the bubble of heavenly pleasure that had been building within them shook them and exploded into a surge of feral sensations; their world shimmered in all colors of a rainbow.

Marian and Robin shuddered through a series of ethereal crescendos. The rapture was so intense and profound that it touched the very depths of their hearts and souls, and tears of holy euphoria trickled down their cheeks, glorifying _the divine reunion of two kindred spirits_. The pleasure lingered in lazy, impetuous waves, and so did the echo of their unrestrained cries of love and gratification. Blissfulness pervaded their beings, tinged their thoughts, and overwhelmed their hearts, as she collapsed onto him.

For some time, they both couldn’t move and were barely able to draw breath. As they recovered and lay on the bed in each other’s arms, their bodies still entwined, Robin was showering gentle kisses on her face, his hands stroking the mass of her dark hair, holding her head still. “Marian,” he whispered.

Marian smiled through tears. “I swear I will never force you to make a choice between the king and me. I will never do the same mistake again.” She knew that his conflict of loyalties could never be resolved.

He pressed her closer to himself, pleasurable mist still swirling in his head. “I made many mistakes in our relationship. I should have tried to explain to you why I was so loyal to King Richard.”

“Now everything will be different, Robin.” Feeling the telltale trickle of his seed between her thighs, she sighed with a mixture of puzzlement and shame. “Robin, you were not…” Her voice halted.

As she lowered her eyes, Robin inquired worriedly, “My love, what has happened?”

Embarrassed and suddenly shy, she gazed everywhere but at him. In a gruff voice, she remarked, “You were not careful tonight, like you were the first time in Sherwood.”

“Marian,” he called her.

Her eyes flying to his, she blushed to the roots of her hair. “I mean that…” Her voice faltered.

Robin planted a kiss on her forehead. “Indeed, I didn’t take any precautions.”

Marian glanced at him with eyes overflowing with tears. She was conscious deep within herself of a shaft of pain at knowing that she might not be able to bear his child. “Robin, having your baby would make me the happiest woman.” She fought against her tears, but they kept falling. “But I am not sure I can birth you a child. Not after the injury I sustained. I am sorry–” She broke off and swallowed a sob.

He gathered her into his arms and held her tight against his chest as she cried. He then cradled her face in his hands, gently and reverently. “Marian, I love you, and you are enough for my happiness. It doesn’t matter to me whether we have a child or not. And I already have a son and an heir – my Richard.”

She pledged, “I will love your son as my own.”

“Thank you, my love.” A confident gleam lighting his eyes, he promulgated, “But Robin Hood and his Lady Marian can accomplish miracles; maybe you have conceived tonight.”

Marian’s visage brightened, her tears gone. “That is my most cherished dream!”

After they made love again, Marian fell asleep in his arms, and Robin felt that he had finally found peace with the love of his life. He was home with Marian, and this moment was the long-awaited end of perils and strife; it was the new beginning of their happiness, the fulfillment of their love, and the completeness of their lives.

Rich silk of mirth draped over everything, and the elegant greenery of the earlier, blithesome days bloomed in them. Tonight, the tremors of the heroes’ hearts mingled in the divine beating of the heart of the large, smooth, and ceaselessly serene ocean, as they embarked together on a boat of love, no longer lonely vessels adrift in the ebony waters of afflictions and pain. Robin Hood and his Marian sailed to the shores of their passionate youth, their arms opened as they welcomed their winged and magnificent dreams, and they would be lost in this resplendent world, like artisans of all the wonder and romance of the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> Many thanks to Coleen561, Mademoiselle Nathalie, Queen of Vikings, and jadey36 for sharing their thoughts about the finale and for helping with some scenes.
> 
>  In this chapter, the action takes place in about three years after the siege of Nottingham. Here you have a glimpse of all the main characters and learn what happened to them after the siege.
> 
> Guy and Meg are married and are very happy together. Guy’s love for his wife is the quintessence of his life, and there is nothing that can separate them. Meg is a very devoted spouse, and Guy cannot regret that he married her. The Gisborne spouses are raising two sons – Seth and Hugh. Allan and Kate are married and already have two children; they live in Rochdale and sometimes come to Nottingham
> 
> At present, Robin, Guy, and Archer are serving in King Richard’s army on the continent. Guy was ordered by the king to join Richard’s troops as he must prove his loyalty to the Lionheart and is doing his penance for his past crimes, and his service to the king doesn’t make him an unhappy man. Archer is thirsty for adventure, which is why he joined the king’s war in Normandy.
> 
> Robin has been mourning for his wife in the past few years, and he has lost purpose in life. He is focused on his son, Richard, and even more on the king. Even if Melisende had survived, Robin would have continued to serve King Richard and would have joined the campaign against King Philippe in Normandy. Why? Robin knows that the king is his half-brother, and there is a strong brotherly bond between Richard and Robin. Robin loves the king and feels responsible for his liege’s fate; I don’t think that he would have abandoned Richard – his sense of duty would have prevailed as he is serving not only the king but also his brother (we discussed it with jadey36 and Queen of Vikings).
> 
> You can see a new layer of Melisende’s personality – the ruthlessness that she did from Robin. It doesn’t make her a bad person, and she remains my favorite female character in this epic. Don’t forget that she is a Plantagenet, as Roger de Lacy says correctly, which means that her world is different from that of those people who don’t belong to royalty. The new things which Robin learned about his wife make him realize that the real Melisende is not really congruent with his principles and beliefs; it also helps him realize that Marian is the love of his life. Robin’s love for Marian is the quintessence of his life.
> 
> After Melisende’s death, it was obvious that Marian and Robin would be shipped together, and it happened in this chapter. I don’t think that Robin would have rushed to Marian very soon after his wife’s death; he most definitely needed some time to contemplate his life and to grieve the loss, to analyze his own feelings. I hope that you like the Robin/Marian scenes and their reunion in this chapter. As she told King Richard, Marian has been waiting for Robin patiently; she is raising Much’s son as her own child. King Richard and Queen Eleanor did indeed help Marian and Robin to be reunited as they summoned Marian to court. Robin proposes to Marian, and then they have a night of love and passion together. With Marian, Robin feels him, and only she can give him peace, happiness; Robin has found his purpose again.  
> 
> This is the end of this long epic, and I hope all fans like it. Robin and Guy both found peace and happiness. Some pleasant news about Robin, Marian, Guy, and Meg will appear in the epilogue that includes only happy scenes. Robin and Kate will have a short conversation about their real relationship in the epilogue. Maybe someone’s pregnancy will be discovered, but I cannot promise it.
> 
> Many thanks to everyone for your constant support and comments! Your support has always been very appreciated! Thank you! I sincerely hope that you are satisfied, even if the end of this epic is not exactly what you would want to see for Robin and Guy. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to post the epilogue in the next two months, and you will have to wait for some time.


	18. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The sun was shining brightly upon the village of Locksley as it basked in its warm rays. The air was clear, and the spring day was rich with blossom scent and birdsong. It was a long-awaited and fabulous day for everyone in Nottinghamshire because today two events would take place – the wedding of Sir Robin James Fitzooth of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon, and Lady Marian Isabella Fitzwalter of Knighton, and the wedding of Sir Guy Crispin FitzCorbet of Gisborne and Lady Megan Christine Bennet of Attenborough.

Robin had proposed to Marian two months ago, on Christmas in Anjou, with the blessing of King Richard and Queen Eleanor. Guy and Megan decided to renew their marriage vows because their previous wedding had happened the next day after the siege of Nottingham. Megan and Guy coveted another ceremony that would efface sad recollections of the past from their minds.

The old church in Locksley was full of guests and glowed in amber candlelight. Two couples and two priests stood near the altar. Robin asked Friar Tuck to administer the ceremony for Marian and him; he didn’t quite like Tuck, but permitted the man to serve in Locksley in reward for his assistance in the fight against Prince John. Guy requested that Father Alden conduct the wedding ceremony for Megan and him; the friar was the same man who had warned him about the dark mysteries of the past several years ago.

Marian and Robin, along with Megan and Guy, had triumphed in their fierce battle between mortality and evil, and their glorious victory banished the sinister gloom that marked the fate of their defeated foes. Their joint wedding was a moment of supreme and delicious success, and they were rejoicing at the prospect of the celebration. It was not a time for reflection; there was no need to step away from the canvas of their lives, like an artist evaluating his work. Instead, they were focused on moving forward, content in the knowledge that all their travails and tribulations had been worthwhile.

“Sir Robin and Lady Marian, we can start your ceremony,” Friar Tuck declared, smiling at the couple.

The ceremony proceeded. Robin flashed Marian a slow, tender, entrancing smile, its radiance rivaling only the beauty of heaven; he had given her exactly this smile each time he had proposed to her and she had accepted. Marian rewarded him with an arrestingly bewitching smile that breathed mirth into him. They stared at each other as if mesmerized, their love being the most precious jewel in the world. It would soon be over, and the fragrance of spiritual elation filled the chapel.

Robin behaved like a man at ease. “I am going to say special vows for my beautiful bride.”

Marian smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Well, handsome, I like this.”

Robin eyed Marian and sucked in his breath. He was fascinated by the beautiful woman in a lovely velvet gown with a modestly cut square neckline, the bodice embroidered with tiny white flowers and adorned with pearls, her pale marble skin and voluptuous figure perfectly accentuated by the vibrant blue color of her dress and by its fashionable design. She had her long brown hair arranged in a simple, but elegant, low bun on the nape of her neck. As their eyes met, Marian could read Robin’s lascivious thoughts, and, with a blush, she jerked her gaze from his, but her powerful awareness of his presence beside her only heightened as the ceremony continued. Every gaze they exchanged resonated deep in their flesh and blood.

Robin radiantly beamed at his wife-to-be. “I, Robin Hood, take you, Maid Marian, the queen of my heart and Sherwood Forest, to be my lawful wedded wife,” he uttered in a voice thick with emotion, “to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, to fight for justice and to live in peace together, till death do us part.” He then winked at Marian who stifled a giggle. “I pledge to love you more than my bow, even though a bow is Robin Hood’s best friend.”

Marian and Robin heard chuckling sounds from Megan and Guy, who stood nearby. Some guests sniggered at Robin’s passionate speech. Friar Tuck smiled, thinking that the hero was truly unique.

Marian viewed the bridegroom from head to toe. Robin wore an azure doublet, trimmed with jewelry, with a standing lace collar, matching trousers, and a white silk shirt. Robin looked roguishly charming, and his still boyish features now had a maturing kind of masculine handsomeness. At this very moment, Robin reminded her of the young man who had joined King Richard on Crusade, as though the arrow of time had reversed its course and the old days of their youth came back. The excitement of the moment caused her heart to beat faster, and her eyes flicked to his lips, but she hurriedly averted them.

Marian bestowed upon Robin an empyreal smile. “I, Maid Marian, take you, Robin Hood, master of the bow, champion of the poor and lord of my heart, to be my lawful wedded husband.” She paused, feeling breathless in happiness; her smile widened. “I promise to love and to cherish you, for better or for worse, from this day forward as long as we both shall live.” She winked at him. “I promise to love you as deeply as I do only if you continue loving me more than your bow.”

Many guests laughed quietly. Guy rolled his eyes, thinking that Marian and Robin’s marriage vows were non-traditional and too audacious. In contrast to Guy, Megan was impressed by their boldness and originality.

Friar Tuck addressed the couple, “Sir Robin and Lady Marian! Years will pass, you will grow old together, but nobody will forget about Robin Hood and his beloved Lady Marian.”

“Robin Hood and Maid Marian became immortal through my songs and ballads!” an animated Allan intervened. “I will sing about them on the wedding feast!”

Kate, who stood next to Allan, nodded. “I would like to hear you sing!”

Allan smiled at his wife, his heart singing the song he had composed in honor of Marian and Robin’s wedding. He trained his eyes on his little blonde-haired daughter, Elaine, who stood beside Kate. In the past several years, Allan and Kate were in love and lived a peaceful life in Rochdale, raising their family and running the estates which belonged to Allan’s family. Now Kate was officially known as Malcolm of Lockley’s illegitimate daughter, because Robin acknowledged her as his half-sister after the siege of Nottingham three years ago, of course, with Kate’s permission. Allan once said that he felt honored to be the husband of the Earl of Huntingdon’s half-sister. Kate’s sister, Maggie, also lived in Rochdale, and now Kate was her guardian.

Kate came to the wedding because Robin invited her, and she accepted it with gratitude and joy. Kate didn’t have the opportunity to become close with Robin, because the hero had left Nottingham immediately after the siege and didn’t return until his wedding to Marian. Nevertheless, Robin regularly sent her and her daughter gifts from the continent and, sometimes, quite long letters, where he told her about his life in Normandy and Aquitaine and expressed his desire to see Allan and her at court in Poitou. Although Kate couldn’t travel because her daughter often caught colds and coughs, she always responded to her brother’s letters, describing her life with Allan and asking him to be careful while serving in the king’s army. Kate was fond of Robin and admired him, and she hoped that she would get to know her famed half-brother better; however, she and Archer didn’t have the inclination to develop a close relationship.

“You will all love my song!” exclaimed an increasingly animated Allan.

This time, Kate chided, “Allan, we are in the church!”

“Allan, I want to listen to this song,” Carter stated.

Sir Carter Leighton of Stretton, Baron Clifton, was Robin’s only close friend who had arrived in Locksley to attend the wedding; Sir Roger de Lacy and Sir Robert de Beaumont had joined the king’s troops after Christmas Tide. Carter was accompanied by with his betrothed – Lady Agnes of Stoke, the sister of Roger of Stoke. They didn’t like that Marian and Robin had decided to have a ceremony together with Guy and Megan, but they were Robin’s friends and felt obliged to keep their displeasure to themselves.

“I, too, want to hear the song about Robin Hood and Maid Marian,” Agnes interjected.

Allan’s lips curled into a grin. “Very soon, mates.”

Archer of Locksley grinned sheepishly. “Allan’s song will frighten the whole village.”

 “Please, be quiet,” Little John requested. His wife, Alice, was still married to Luke; his son, Little Little John, lived with his mother. John had followed Robin to Palestine, but he was not willing to serve the king in Normandy, so he stayed in Locksley and worked as the Earl of Huntingdon’s steward.

All eyes were riveted on Marian and Robin who were about to exchange rings in the next moment.

Robin slid the sapphire ring on Marian’s finger. It was the same ring he had gifted her on their first betrothal many years ago; Marian loved the ring so much that she would probably be willing to die for it. “Marian, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Wear it with love and joy, and love me forever.”

An enchanting smile manifested on her face, and Marian slipped the sapphire ring, crafted especially for the wedding, on Robin’s finger. Her dulcet voice quivering with joy, she purred, “With this ring, I marry you, Robin. Wear it as a sign of my ever-lasting love for you.”

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Tuck announced in a high voice.

An elated Marian stepped to Robin. “You may kiss the bride, Robin Hood,” she permitted him, her eyes glowing with exultation that was so intense there was a pure vibration of bliss in her chest.

A grin flourished on Robin’s features, his eyes gleaming with gladness. A triumphant Robin gently folded Marian into his arms, cupped her face, and then crushed his lips into hers in a heated kiss. She responded with a fervor that astonished both of them, and this very physical contact of their mouths marked the eternal union of their hearts and souls. The two churchmen stared at the kissing couple in embarrassment, but they did not dare interrupt this magical moment for Robin Hood and his Lady Marian.

Irritated by the provoking display of Marian and Robin’s salacious sentiments, Guy cleared his throat. He scolded them, “You should wait until the evening. Time for the marriage bed will come soon.” As his gaze shifted to Megan, his features softened, embers of happiness rekindled the light in his eyes, and a felicitous smile curved his lips. “Now it is high time for me to marry my Meg once more.”

“Guy, let our lovebirds enjoy their reunion,” Megan’s voice resonated.

Marian pulled away from Robin; she held his gaze, though a dusting of pink streaked her cheeks. “One day I will murder you, Robin of Locksley,” she jested, looking into her husband’s eyes.

Robin shrugged, and smiled endearingly. “I guess now you can try to kill me here, near the altar. Will you do this, Lady Huntingdon?”

Marian rolled her eyes, but her spirits soared; she was so happy that she scarcely dared breathe. “You are incorrigible. The world is full of men, all types, but there is only one infuriating braggart like you.”

Sporting a devilish grin, Robin contended, “Yeah, Marian, you are the worst offender. The more colorful words you use to describe me, the more you love me. Don’t forget that if I flout a rule, I do it with a purpose; people appreciate it and indulge me, and you should feel this way, too.”

Marian cautioned him, “Your overweening confidence has greatly prejudiced me against you.”

“Bravo! Nice banter and so much love!” Megan teased. Guy smiled, understanding it perfectly well.

Robin and Marian stepped aside, and Guy and Megan took their places near the altar.

The Huntingdon spouses trained their eyes on Mary, one of the oldest servants at Locksley Manor, and then beheld two boys, who stood near the woman. One of them was Richard of Locksley, Robin’s son with Melisende. The boy looked strikingly like Robin with his sandy hair and his overpowering light charm, but his violet eyes identified him as a Plantagenet. The second boy was Edward of Bonchurch, the son of Much and Eve; he was the honey-haired boy whose resemblance to Much caused the hearts of Robin and Marian to constrict at the memory of their brave friend who had sacrificed himself for them in Pontefract Castle.

“We are going to have another wedding ceremony,” Friar Gerard announced as he approached Megan and Guy. “The bridegroom and the bride want to renew their wedding vows in order to strengthen their love and re-commit themselves to happiness as husband and wife.”

Guy smiled at Megan, his heartbeat speeding in anticipation. “I, Guy of Gisborne, take you, Megan of Attenborough, for my wedded wife, for the second time, from this day forward and forever, to have and to hold. I give you all my love and devotion. I will receive you as my love throughout all of our days.”

Guy preferred their marriage vows to be more official. His words were sincere because he had never been as happy as he was with Megan. His wife was his great love, his best friend, and his whole world; she was the mother of their firstborn son, Hugh, and was also raising his son, Seth, as her own.

For a short span of time, Guy’s breath caught at the sight of Megan’s beatific smile, and he feared he could go wild with a delirious excitement. Megan looked charismatic and lovely: she was dressed and adorned with fantastic splendor, wearing a luxurious Aquitanian gown made of red and silver brocade with a low-cut V-shaped neckline and a long train embroidered with diamonds, while her bosom was covered with a massive diamond necklace. Although the wedding took place in Nottingham, and she no longer was Queen Eleanor’s lady, she would always be a courtier in the literal sense of the word. The grace and beauty of her gown enhanced her natural endowments and made Megan an utterly pleasing picture to behold.

Megan smiled with an incredible warmth and love that just made Guy feel as if the Lord had blessed him to be with this very woman. Gazing into his eyes warmly, she commenced her vows. “On this day, I, Megan of Attenborough, choose you, Guy of Gisborne, to be my husband and pledge my love to you.”

Looking at Guy’s face illuminated by a smile of contentment, Megan was almost swooning in delight. She quickly perused Guy’s athletic and strong body clad in a gray brocade doublet, black trousers, and a black silk shirt. Megan insisted that the color black fitted him and brought out his steel blue eyes, but he avoided wearing it. Guy was the most handsome man she had ever met, and for Megan, other men paled in comparison to him. With all her heart, Megan thanked God that Guy had fallen in love with her, and that she had been able to make him happy after the dreadful misery he had survived through while serving Vaisey. It was a stroke of good luck to meet Guy in the underground dungeons!

Friar Alden addressed the Gisborne spouses, “Sir Guy and Lady Megan, please exchange your rings to reaffirm your love for each other and your commitment to your marriage.”

Guy placed the massive golden diamond ring on Megan’s finger while beholding her as a goddess of his heart. These rings had once belonged to Megan’s parents, and she insisted that they use them today.

“I promise to love and cherish you all the days of my life,” Guy declared with a lavish smile that melted the whole being of his wife, while his heart hammered in delight. “This ring is a symbol of my love for you.”

Megan slid the ring on Guy’s finger. Her eyes full of eternal devotion, she murmured, “May my heart beat in rhythm with yours until death do us part.” She chuckled. “Now you can kiss your wife, my dear husband.”

Guy stepped to his wife and possessively wrapped his arm around her waist. Megan stood on her tiptoes and moved her mouth to his firm, unresisting lips lightly, savoring their warmth and firmness. The kiss was hungry and passionate, as if he could not bear to part from her, but it didn’t last long because Guy was not going to be indiscreet in public – he was not inclined to Robin’s theatrics. 

“I pronounce you husband and wife,” Friar Alden spoke, smiling at the young couple.

Robin approached Guy, his eyes darting between Megan and Guy. “I couldn’t congratulate you on your wedding on the day of the siege,” he said sadly. “Today, I can do this.” He smiled ever so slightly, his gaze shifting from Guy to Meg. “I wish you a lifetime of love and happiness.”

A smile lit up Marian’s visage. “Congratulations, Guy and Lady Megan. May the years ahead be filled with lasting joy.”

Marian felt her husband’s hand tremble in hers. She could see that Robin needed her moral support as his features contorted in pain at the mention of the siege. In a split of a second, Robin’s countenance regained inscrutability, and Robin allowed a smile of gratitude to turn up the corners of his mouth.

Guy smiled cordially. “Thank you.” He glanced between Robin and Marian. “From the bottom of my heart, I wish the two of you happiness because you do deserve it.”

“Robin and Lady Marian, I am so happy that you two have found love in each other. May the Lord bless you and keep you,” Megan supplied. She was delighted that the two heroes were reunited, and she knew very well how much the legend of England had suffered after Melisende’s death.

Robin nodded. His marriage to Marian was his second chance at happiness, which he needed so much all the woes that he had endured. “There were many lost chances and a lot of pain,” he stated with a noticeable touch of bitterness. “But, we have become older and wiser. Life taught us many sad, but valuable, lessons.”

“That’s true,” a beaming Marian agreed.

In the next moment, two young boys began running to the two married couples. One of them was Seth of Gisborne, Guy’s officially acknowledged son; the other was Hugh of Gisborne, Meg and Guy’s firstborn son. Hugh was a raven-haired, serious boy, and his steel blue eyes were enigmatic and intelligent; he resembled Guy and had his father’s dark handsomeness. Seth looked more like Annie than Guy with his gray eyes and blonde hair. Seth and Hugh loved each other and became brothers as Megan was raising them together.

Little Hugh and Seth surrounded Guy and Megan, and then congratulated their parents on the wedding, smiling shyly at them. Guy embraced Hugh, pressing the boy to him, but he quickly drew back and then planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. Then he opened his arms for Seth who rushed to him.

As Megan took her own son into her arms, she watched Seth and Guy, a smile illuminating her entire face with an inner glow of serenity. She did not regret that they had taken Seth into their household.

Young Richard ran to his father from Mary, and Robin gathered him into his arms. The sandy-haired boy laughed merrily and kissed his father on the cheek, and Robin laughed back at his son, thinking that the boy was as disobedient as he had been in childhood.

Marian took Edward’s hand and asked the boy whether he was tired. She then turned her gaze to Robin and her stepson; she swore that she would become a good, loving mother for little Richard.

The two married couples exited the church and headed to the courtyard near Locksley Manor, where tables were laden with an orgy of delicious food for the wedding feast, and wines from vineyards of Poitou were served as well. The villagers were happy and greeted the newlyweds with songs and smiles.

Enjoying the atmosphere of a wonderful celebration, Marian and Robin were both as contented as cats dozing in a shaft of sunlight. They ambled towards the manor; Robin was leading his son Richard, Marian – Much’s son Edward. The smiling villagers congratulated the happy Huntington family and wished them happiness for the rest of their lives. Everyone was aware of Melisende’s heroic and tragic death in the siege; they had constructed a memorial desk to give tribute to Robin’s deceased wife. Robin had been a widower for more than three years, and his mourning was over, so his marriage to Marian didn’t surprise anyone. The peasants were happy to have Marian as Countess of Huntingdon.

Megan and Guy were also walking towards Locksley Manor; Megan was carrying Hugh, and Guy was leading Seth. Now the villagers congratulated Megan and Guy as they no longer considered him the devil’s servant. They knew about Guy’s role in the evacuation of civilians from the beleaguered Nottingham, as tales about his bravery had spread across the shire within a few days after the siege. People also heard rumors that Guy had saved Robin’s life in Pontefract Castle when Much had died, which made Guy a hero in the eyes of folks who worshipped Robin Hood. Guy’s marriage to Megan, whose father was eminently respected in the shire, reassured people that Guy had changed and became a good man and Robin’s friend.

Djaq and Will quitted the manor to meet the wedded couples. They couldn’t come to the church because Djaq remained a Muslim after marrying Will who was a Christian; each of them worshipped their own God. Therefore, King Richard had modified the vows for their wedding ceremony that had taken place the next day after the siege. After the king’s departure from Nottingham, Will and Djaq stayed in Locksley and relocated to Will’s old cottage. Their love was blooming and becoming more meaningful with every passing day. Djaq birthed twins, a boy and a girl, whom she named Daniel and Sarah in honor of Will’s parents.

While Robin, Guy, and Archer had been in Normandy, Will had been busy with the rebuilding of Knighton Hall; the construction works had been completed a year ago. Djaq was one of Robin Hood’s outlaws loved by the people, who often consulted her about the use of some medicinal herbs and who asked her for help in case of an illness or an injury. Djaq missed her uncle, Bassam, and maintained correspondence with him, but she was glad that she had returned to England – this country became her and Will’s home.

Robin smiled heartily. “Djaq and Will, I am delighted to see you.”

“Now we are married,” Marian announced proudly.

Will smiled back at first at his former leader and then at his wife. “Congratulations! The two of you are perfect for each other! We wish you love and happiness on this very special day!”

Djaq smiled, her gaze oscillating between Marian and Robin. “You two are so unique and so beautiful! Just like the love you feel! So happy to celebrate your wedding!” She veered her gaze to Robin’s son who stared at her with interest. “Well, this charming boy now has a family.”

Marian nodded vigorously. “Yes, he has!”

“ _We_ have,” Robin amended with an emphasis on the word ‘we’.

“ _We_ have,” Marian echoed. She and Robin then asked Mary and other servants to take the children away and arrange them for a day nap.

In a few heartbeats, Carter and his fiancée, Lady Agnes of Stoke, approached Robin and Marian. They had already congratulated Megan and Guy, keeping an appearance of politeness and masking their disdain for Gisborne; they adored Megan, but their contempt for her husband was as utterly merciless as the cold and slighting look they gave Guy. Agnes would never forgive Guy for the murder of her dear cousin Roger.

Agnes directed her gaze at Robin and Marian in silence. “Oh, lovebirds, you can now sing and flirt all day long. You are finally where you are destined to be – you are married.”

Robin took Marian’s hand in his and laced their fingers. “We are meant to be together.”

A smile spread across Carter’s features. “Robin, you of all men deserve peace.” His gaze flew to Marian and then back to his friend. “I wish the two of you a happiness that reaches every corner of your hearts.”

“Thank you, Carter,” Marian and Robin chorused.

“May you have many happy years together,” John told Marian and Robin. Remembering Robin’s death in Acre, he believed that the most important wish would be to have a long life.

Allan appeared beside Marian and Robin. A cheeky smile playing on his lips, he jested, “Love each other as much as only gods can!” Then his expression evolved into seriousness. “Move forward to new victories!”

Kate stood next to Allan. “Congratulations, _brother_ ,” she said, looking at Robin with a warm smile.

Both Robin and Kate were happy to see each other. Robin smiled back at his half-sister. “Thank you, _sister_.” He then turned to Allan and probed, “When will you sing for us, Allan?”

There was a smile on Allan’s face. “Very soon, Robin Hood! Be patient!”

Archer emerged near Robin and pulled his half-brother into a hug. “Congratulations, Robin!” He drew back and then perused his sister-in-law in admiration, bowing to her. “My lady, welcome to our unique family! Yeah, I have such a beautiful sister by marriage! I am swooning with joy!”

Robin’s jaw clenched, a fire of jealousy burning in his eyes. “Be careful, Archer,” he warned jocularly; his hand encircled Marian’s waist. “She is mine! Only mine!”

“No worries,” Archer responded, laughing. “I love you both too much to ever hurt you!”

“I know.” Robin nodded.

Marian smiled widely. “You are both so prone to theatrics!”

Robin’s lips stretched into a grin. “But you like it, I know, my love.”

“I do, handsome,” Marian acknowledged with a smile.

Robin’s several vassals approached their liege lord and his wife; they congratulated him and wished them all the best. Nobles wanted to show Robin their respect so they could befriend the Earl of Huntingdon, whom they hadn’t seen in Nottinghamshire since the siege. Some gave Robin their condolences on the death of his first wife, and that caused the earl to pale. As she noticed that, Marian intervened and maneuvered the conversation to the political situation in the Angevin Empire and the war with King Philippe of France.

Lords and knights inquired Robin about the king’s plans for the French campaign and the increase in taxes. They wanted to know more about the building of Château Gaillard, a fortified place in Normandy; the church criticized it and issued an interdict. However, the construction began despite it, but later, in April 1197, the interdict was repealed by Pope Celestine III, after Richard had gifted some lands to the Church.

The expenses for the construction of Château Gaillard amounted to fifteen thousand pounds, which is more than twice higher than Richard's total expenses on all of his English castles. Every reminder that some of King Richard’s decisions, in sober fact, harmed the Angevin lands unsettled Robin. The nation paid a high price for the Lionheart’s release from German captivity; Eleanor had been forced to tax the Church to raise the necessary funds. Richard increased taxes to finance the French campaign; the lion’s wars were depleting the treasury, but Robin would never abandon the service of his liege who was his half-brother.

Megan and Guy stood a small distance from Robin and Marian, listening to their conversation. The majority of villagers from Locksley had gone to the feast, using the chance to have such delicious food in abundance. Even though the people of Nottinghamshire had warmed up to Guy and begun to respect him, the former outlaws distasted him; only Allan and, surprisingly, Djaq treated Guy with sincere affection.

Allan and Archer stalked towards them and embraced Guy and Megan in turns.

Kate stood nearby, waiting for Allan to return to her side. Like Agnes of Stoke, Kate didn’t forgive Guy for the murder of her brother, Matthew, although she was civil in Guy’s presence.

Archer viewed Megan and Guy from head to toe. He exclaimed, “Guy and Meg, you are such a gorgeous couple! You found true love, and you have been happy together! Let your love grow and know no end!”

“Thank you, brother,” Guy answered.

Megan let out a laugh. “I love such passionate speeches. So, thank you, Archer!”

Guy chuckled. “Well, I haven’t forgotten that you grew up at court in Aquitaine!”

“Never forget this,” Megan admonished. “I love Aquitaine!”

Allan effused, “Friends, I love you so much! Married life is a true blessing and one of life's finest gifts. Congratulations and best wishes for the future!”

“Allan, we love you too,” Guy asserted. While fighting in Normandy, he missed Allan. He wished that his other friend, Sir Roger de Tosny, Baron de Conches, was with him on the day of his second wedding, but Roger had to stay in Normandy with King Richard.

“You mean a lot to us,” Megan added.

Unexpectedly, Djaq found them and then voiced her assessment of their compatibility. “Sir Guy and Lady Megan, you are perfect for each other. This was clear from the very beginning.”

Guy liked Djaq the most among the outlaws. “Your good attitude means a lot to me.”

“Thank you very much,” Megan replied amicably.

Djaq stated, “You deserve what you have now.”

After Djaq had left, Kate stopped at Allan’s right. “I wish you all the best,” she said in a tight voice, fighting off the assault of the repugnance she experienced towards Gisborne.

Guy smiled; he was surprised and pleased that Kate had managed to be at least civil towards him. “Love will always be with us,” he asserted confidently, his adoring eyes at Megan.

“Yes,” Megan breathed.

Guy heard the nobles ask Robin about the increase in taxes, and a frown marred his forehead. “Poor Robin! He has to answer such questions on his wedding day.”

Megan swung her gaze to Robin and Marian, who were still talking to the lords. “They are all Robin’s vassals; that’s why they talk to their liege lord while he is here. They haven’t seen him for three years!”

“Are you going to return to Normandy?” Allan wanted to know.

“Yes,” Guy confirmed. “In two weeks.”

Allan inquired, “And what about Robin?”

“Robin, Guy, and I will go to Normandy together,” Archer clarified. “King Richard needs us.”

Allan was bewildered. “And what does Marian think about that?”

“Now she understands why Robin is so loyal to the king,” Guy answered.

Megan decreed, “We cannot interfere.”

“It is none  of our business.” Kate was not very interested in Robin’s personal life.

An amazed Allan nodded; years ago, Robin’s unconditional loyalty to the king had been the cornerstone of his relationship with Marian, but it seemed that something altered that. Megan and Guy were relieved because they were not willing to discuss anything associated with the secret of Robin’s birth.

The cerulean sky was cloudless and bright, stretching for miles in every direction. The sunlight was a life-giving thing in the way it could be only in Nottingham, brilliant and tinged in a halo of heroism, the clean light falling upon a tender spring greenness of Sherwood Forest and the celebrating village of Locksley. Robin’s infectious laugh unleashed a festive celebration among the populace, and his generosity was notable: he raised a toast to Guy and Megan’s happiness; the guests cheered the Gisborne spouses, to Guy’s astonishment and to the pleasure of those who cared for him.

Allan signaled for silence and then proclaimed enthusiastically, “Now I will sing for Robin Hood and his Lady Marian!” Kate immediately brought a lute for him, and the minstrel settled in one of the chairs at the central table. His fingers brushing lightly the string of the lute, Allan started playing, and his melodic, strong voice reverberated through the courtyard, while everyone listened in awed silence.

Robin and Marian observed Allan with a sense of ecstatic pleasure. They heard him perform about Robin Hood and his merry men, but they had never imagined that he would compose a song for their wedding. In this magical moment, Marian and Robin felt so very alive, their souls humming with the music of Allan’s words that proclaimed the beginning of a new life for them. She was _his_ , in his power now and forever, and the whole world bloomed and trembled with flamboyant colors of rapture.

_A bonny fine maid of a noble degree,_

_Maid Marian calld by name,_

_Did live in the North, of excellent worth,_

_For she was a gallant dame._

Robin grinned wickedly and whispered into Marian’s ear, “Allan is right that you are very bonny. I cannot wait to see how lovely you are in the dead of night.”

“Oh, Robin,” Marian breathed, and a blush suffused her cheeks. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

_For favour and face, and beauty most rare,_

_Queen Hellen shee did excell;_

_For Marian then was praisd of all men_

_That did in the country dwell._

“Never, my love.” Robin’s eyes were gleaming with lust and amusement. “You and I want the same.”

“I cannot deny it,” Marian admitted with a sigh, her face flushed in expectation.

_The Earl of Huntington, nobly born,_

_That came of noble blood,_

_To Marian went, with a good intent,_

_By the name of Robin Hood._

Marian and Robin smiled at one another. For years, she had been dreaming of becoming his wife, and today her wish finally came true. There were so many differences between them in the past, and various tragedies were twisting their hearts and souls, like an emotional vise. But, God blessed them and eventually joined them in saint matrimony, perhaps as a reward for all of their sufferings.

_With kisses sweet their red lips meet,_

_For shee and the earl did agree;_

_In every place, they kindly imbrace,_

_With love and sweet unity._

As Allan continued singing, Marian and Robin felt as if the old days had come back into their lives. They remembered how much they had enjoyed sweet music about undying love of a knight for the dame of his heart at a banquet in the Queen Mother’s palace, when Robin had looked into Marian’s eyes and marveled at their mysterious blue depths. Memories of the past blossomed into their precious present.

_But now to conclude, an end I will make_

_In time, as I think it good,_

_For the people that dwell in the North can tell_

_Of Marian and bold Robin Hood._

Allan finished singing and bowed to the audience that exploded with cheerful cries of delight. Marian and Robin thanked him for the most marvelous wedding gift they had received today.

“Thank you, Allan,” Robin whispered as he briefly hugged the minstrel in gratitude.

An impressed Marian chortled. “You sing like an angel.”

Allan looked haughty and proud of his talent. “I pledged to make Robin Hood more than immortal – that I will make the memory about the hero eternal. Now I am correcting my promise: I will make Robin Hood and his Lady Marian immortal legends through my songs and ballads!”

Marian interjected by saying dulcetly, “Through words, we can become immortal.”

Robin sighed tragically. “All songs remind me of Melisende,” he confessed, his voice very low.  “She had a divine voice and sang wonderful love songs.”

Allan didn’t say anything, as it would have been tactless of him to comment on it.

The Countess of Huntingdon was conscious of a stab of jealousy and then of a stronger one of guilt, for it was foolish of her to feel that way about the dead woman. “I am sorry, Robin.” Yet, she had a compelling reason for jealousy: part of Robin still loved his first wife.

He flickered his eyes to the vault of heavens, as if endeavoring to locate Melisende’s star. “She wanted me to be happy because she loved me.” His gaze flitted to Marian, and a smile lit up his face. “And I am.”

Marian smiled back charmingly. “And so am I.”

Allan sighed with relief. “I will make you even happier. I will glorify your love in my songs.”

“Oh, yes!” Marian exuberantly cried.  “You must compose many beautiful songs about Robin and me!”

Enveloped in an affectionate embrace, Megan and Guy stood rather far from Robin and Marian. While Allan was singing, they remembered the happy night in Aquitaine when Guy had confessed to loving Megan.

As if he read her thoughts, Guy asked, “Are you remembering my love confession?”

She reveled in the glow of the adoration reflected in her husband’s eyes. “Yes! It was a magical night.”

A fervent urgency consumed Guy: he must confess his love for her again. He reached out his hand and caressed her cheek. Gazing intensely into her eyes, he was perfectly content, as if the boat of their love had just cast anchor near the shores of paradise. “I love you more than life itself, Meg. You entered my life and became an integral part of my heart and soul. You have made me the happiest man on earth.”

Megan raised her hand to his face and traced the contours of his face. “I love you, too, Guy. Only you.”

Guy brushed a few curls that had escaped her up-do from her forehead. He felt a surge of love and admiration for his wife. “I wanted peace and found it by your side, Meg. I look forward to every moment and every day that I can spend with you and feel your presence all around me. It truly seems as if you are a part of me that had gone missing and was waiting for the right time to be found and make me feel complete all over again.” He had already said that many times, but he was honor bound to repeat it today.

Turning her gaze to Marian and Robin, Megan mused aloud, “Generations will remember the great love of Robin Hood and his Lady Marian. But the legend of our love will be glorified in our hearts.”

He smirked, staring at the other couple. “We don’t need the glory they crave. But I will remind Allan that he promised to compose a ballad about my reconciliation with Robin Hood.”

“You should definitely do that, Guy.”

“I will talk to Allan.” His eyes gleamed knavishly. “Robin Hood ballads create a vivid picture of Robin’s life and adventures, and I want to be featured in them.”

Megan flung her arms around his neck. “Guy, I have a surprise for you,” she began. “I am with child.”

A torrent of sheer happiness inundated his soul. “Good heavens, Meg!” exclaimed an incredibly joyful Guy as his arms encircled her waist. He lifted his wife in the air, as if she weighed no more than a feather. He cried, “I will become a father again! You have made me so happy, my love!”

“Ah, Guy!” Megan cried half in fright, half in exultation. “Put me down, Guy!”

Guy placed his wife on her feet and inclined his head to her neck, nuzzling her throat with his lips. His expression concerned, he inquired, “Are you fine?”

She allayed him, “I am fine, but a little dizzy.”

“I can go get something for you,” he offered.

Megan shook her head. “No, Guy. Don’t leave me!”

Guy sighed in satisfaction. “This is the best news possible. I love you and our child!”

For a few heartbeats, Guy beheld his gorgeous wife, and her beauty rendered him totally powerless and thoroughly charmed. He raised his scrutiny to her blue eyes that shone like stars in the dark of night, and he momentarily envisioned her as an ancient mythological creature who was a constellation, whose blue light illuminated the velvety black canvas and purified human minds and senses. Their everlasting love, purged of pain and hatred, cleansed his soul of the poison and the sin.

A blithesome Megan rushed forward, and Guy engulfed her into his all-too-familiar strong arms. He bent his head and kissed her on the lips, at first softly, then fiercely. A strong, sultry desire was flowing into every part of their bodies, swirling like a vortex of emotions, dissolving them into some boneless creatures that floated about in the ocean of devotion. Kissing with a fervency matching that of two lovers who would never see each other again, Guy and Megan froze in an affectionate embrace while their lips and tongues clung together as if on a life raft, battling for dominance in the realm of all-absorbing passion.

The villagers watched the spouses celebrate the happy news of the upcoming arrival of the new Gisborne baby. They saw Guy and Meg separate for a moment and then kiss again. Megan threw her arms around his neck in a fit of eagerness, and Guy chortled briefly before growing silent, closing his eyes, and gaily investing himself in the kiss, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Merry laughter rang through the village, but the Gisborne spouses were so enthralled by their intimacy that they didn’t notice it.

While everyone enjoyed the magnificent feast in Locksley, Marian asked Robin to go to Sherwood Forest, to their favorite clearing, where they had observed sunsets and sunrises in their adolescence, where they had parted ways before Robin’s departure to the Holy Land, and where Marian had given him her maidenhead on the day of her father’s murder. It was a special place for them, and she wanted Robin to go there because there was something too important she would say to him now.

A curtain of trees encircled Marian and Robin as they moved further into Sherwood, entering the heart of the forest, where only the most intrepid dared go. On this day, the firmament was marked by a few wispy bands of clouds swirling overhead. The snows of winter had long since vanished, washed away by the cleansing of spring rains. The emerging foliage, beaten down by the deluge, bravely persisted in its growth:  shoots of grass, unfurling leaves, and budding flowers brought a welcome return of color to the dreariness of the winter forest. The chirping of birds and scampering of woodland creatures were a joyful sign that the months of scarcity were past, and that the glories of summer awaited. The air was fresh and crisp, imbued with the distinct smell of the awakening spring forest.

They passed by a small forest pond that was surrounded by beeches and oaks and entered a large clearing that was dappled with weak sunlight, its shade dotted with soft moss and spring flowers. Marian and Robin stopped in the middle and stared at each other with breezy smiles, but in a sort of embarrassed awe, as if they were young lovers who had come to a cloistered place to confess their love for the first time and explore the joy of a tryst without a single care in the world.

Robin took a small step to Marian. As the wind ruffled his hair, he thought his heart would burst with pain and fantasized that it was not a tender touch of the wind but rather a ruthless assault of death. “Marian,” he began in a voice laced with anguish. “In Acre, my love for you gave me the strength to survive the ordeals I was through. This love was like sunshine warming my soul in the icy gloom of my existence.”

Marian nodded, her fingers clutching his doublet. “I know. Much told me that.”

“He mentioned that he spoke to you… before the battle of Pontefract.” After a pause, he murmured in a tremulous voice, “I hope he watches us from heaven.”

“I know he can see us, Robin.” Her visage was poignant with grief.

Having recovered from the onslaught of sadness, Robin grinned at her, saying mildly, “Why did we come here, my love? What do you want? I don’t think you have often had what you would like because our lives have never been simple. But now I can give you anything.”

“We had to pay a huge price for the noble prize we have won – peace.”

Reaching out, he touched her chin. “Don’t think about it, Marian. It is over. You are safe with me.”

“I always feel safe in the shelter of your arms.” Her fears and her alarm had been soothed, and Marian smiled enigmatically. “There is something Robin Hood must know.” She then took his hand and put it on her flat stomach, where the new life was slowly growing in her womb.

A stricken expression flashed across his features. “Divulge your mystery to your husband!”

A contented Marian returned, “Yes, Robin! You cannot feel it yet, but this new life is in me!”

A jubilant Robin exclaimed, “A child! Our child!” His heart effusing an ethereal gladness, he felt a small bump there. His gaze locked with hers, and glee showed in his eyes. “But how… is that possible?”

Marian’s face glowed with a peaceful, unparalleled beauty that no physical loveliness could ever create. “That Christmas night in Anjou... You must remember… I was not sure that I could conceive after… Guy had stabbed me in the cave where I almost died.” The sunlight flickered over her flushed cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, “Well, it was a pretty eventful Christmas this year. And miracles happen on Christmas! Did I please you, Robin Hood?”

Her declaration stirred the innermost recesses of his heart, and the happy life he had dreamed of for so long seemed to beckon to him like a return to innocence, or maybe like some pleasant childhood memory. Robin broke into a buoyant chortle. “Endlessly,” he whispered. He cupped her face and held her still, as he looked into her blue eyes and proclaimed, “I cannot remember a time when I didn’t love you. I love you and our child, Marian! You became a constant beautiful thought in my mind years ago, and now all I can think of is just you and our child. Your love has magically erased all my fears about life.”

With both pathos and a sincerity that was palpable, Marian promulgated vehemently, “Robin, I love you more than ever before. I would rather live one short life with you on earth than millions of lives in paradise without you. You are my sky, my air, and my earth – you are everything to me, Robin. You and our child are my whole world, and I don’t need anyone else for happiness! I am so grateful to the Lord that He made it possible for us to cross paths again, after all the troubles we sustained, and to enrich each other’s lives in so many beautiful ways. I love you more than your bow and anyone else, my darling, my Robin Hood!”

Robin captured her mouth with his, smothering the echo of his name against her lips and entering it with his tongue, and lustful demons clawed underneath their skin. They eagerly delved into the deep waters of frenetic passion, tinted golden by the rising sun of their love, and it made their hearts and souls prisoners until doomsday. When he finally broke the kiss and forcibly reined in his desire, Robin lifted his wife in the air, light-heartedly laughing against her lips before taking her back into his arms. The exquisite spring woodland was feeling the depth and strength of Robin and Marian’s love with every fibre of its being – love sounded in the rustling of leaves in all the trees in Sherwood, in the movement of flower stems and grasses, in the lyrical chirping of birds, and in the sound of dew dropping from leaf to leaf.

Their fight was over, and upon reflection, the heroes realized that England of old times had vanished in a thick haze of distant memories, shattered illusions, and debunked myths. Their woes had drowned in the opaque waters of River Styx, but although fast-flowing streams and rivers of the universe were taking them away from the past, the nagging pain from all the losses they had suffered would never fade away. From now on, Robin and Marian belonged to all times: immortal legends lived in a seasonless and timeless world, and the fragrance of timelessness hung in the air like wisps of the past and hints of the future.

In two weeks, Robin, Guy, and Archer would leave for Normandy to join King Richard in the campaign against King Philippe. Neither Robin nor Guy would be in Nottingham when Marian would give birth to Robin’s daughter, Katherine, who would be named in honor of Marian’s mother; soon after Katherine’s birth, Megan would deliver a daughter who would be named Ghislaine after Guy's mother. Then, Robin and Guy would return to Nottingham for a month to meet with their families, but they would quickly again leave for the continent.

In a year after the two weddings, in March 1199, the king’s army would be in Limousine, suppressing the revolt led by Viscount Aimar V of Limoges. Richard would be trying to discover a treasure Roman gold despite the advice of his chief generals, including Robin. A young crossbowman, Bertrand de Gourdon, would shoot Richard in the left shoulder in revenge for the deaths of his family members. The king’s wound would become gangrenous, which would lead to the end of the Lionheart’s era. Richard would grant a royal pardon to Gourdon in order to be remembered as a magnanimous ruler.

On his deathbed, Richard the Lionheart would ask an utterly distressed Robin to take the oath that he would never rebel against John – King John I of England. Richard would secretly summon Guy to his tent and ask to watch Robin and make sure that the hotheaded hero would not do anything against John – Guy would give such a promise. This would be the only moment for Guy and Richard when they would feel united by the bonds of brotherhood which would be shattered by the lion’s death. King Richard would set his affairs in order, bequeathing all his lands to John Plantagenet and his jewels to his nephew, Otto.

Queen Eleanor, Robin of Locksley, and Robert de Beaumont would stay near the bed of Richard the Lionheart until the king would draw his last breath. Soon after that, in the dead of night, Guy would find a crying Robin in Richard’s tent, and the pain would unite the two men. On this night, Robin would call Guy _his friend_ for the first time. They would blame themselves for their failure to keep Richard alive; Robin would never forgive himself that he – captain of the private guard – failed to protect his royal brother.

King John’s reign would be devastating for England. Although they would stay away from politics, Robin and Guy would be growing increasingly disturbed by the worsening situation in the country. To keep his promise to Richard, Robin would not rebel against John, and Guy would keep him in check, staying true to his word to the dead king. Nevertheless, in many years, Robin would feel honor bound to join the revolt of barons against King John at the time when John’s villainies would be driving England into anarchy and a complete breakdown of law and order. Robin, assisted by Guy and other powerful nobles, would make John sign the Magna Carta. Later, Robin and Guy would be involved in First Barons' War, but soon they would learn about John’s death of dysentery. Neither Robin nor Guy would be happy with the passing of their vile half-brother, but they would be somewhat relieved, understanding that John’s death saved England.

Robin and Guy would live long and happy lives with their wives. The marriage of Megan and Guy would produce three children: their firstborn son Hugh, their daughter Ghislane, and their second son Geoffrey; they would raise Seth together with the other kids. Marian would have only Robin’s daughter, as it would be dangerous for her to have more children after her difficult delivery; she and Robin would raise Richard, Robin’s son with Melisende and his heir, together. Years later, Hugh of Gisborne would marry Katherine of Locksley, uniting the bloodlines of the Gisbornes and the Huntingtons in a marriage based on mutual love and respect; Hugh would also be Richard of Locksley’s close friend.

In spite of Robin’s friendliness, Guy would never have a special place in the hero’s heart, unlike Robert, Carter, and Roger. Guy would never confess to having that conversation with King Richard, and Robin would never know that his former enemy worked hard to protect him during King John’s reign. Moreover, Robin would never know that John’s oath, which he had given to Melisende on her deathbed, would be the only thing that prevented the Lackland from signing the Earl of Huntingdon’s death warrant.

Years and centuries would pass, but no one would forget Robin Hood. The romance of Robin Hood and Maid Marian would be widely admired as the quintessence of selfless devotion and eternal love, while the merry men and their brave, remarkable fight for justice would become a timeless story passed down from generation to generation. Guy of Gisborne would remain a villain who hunted Robin and oppressed peasants, but there would be a few songs where Allan described the alliance of the people’s hero and the sheriff’s former henchman. Although there would never be absolute justice in the world, the Robin Hood legend would always promote the never-changing virtues of generosity, kindness, honesty, and bravery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.
> 
> This is the end of this long epic, and I sincerely hope that my readers are satisfied. Marian and Robin, as well as Guy and Megan found peace. Marian and Megan are both pregnant in the epilogue, which makes Robin and Guy very happy. You also know how our favorite characters live in the years to come.
> 
> Many thanks to my mother, Coleen561, Mademoiselle Nathalie, Queen of Vikings, and jadey36 for sharing their thoughts about the finale and for helping with some scenes.
> 
> Now news! We are making great progress on **The Robin Hood Trilogy**! Our website is now up and running, and it can be found at **www.AngevinWorld.com.**
> 
> Subscribe to our website and receive regular updates about the publication schedule for the Robin Hood Trilogy. We also publish short historical articles.
> 
> Thank you for your continued interest and support!
> 
> Penelope and Coleen (aka: Olivia Longueville and J.C. Plummer)
> 
> In the past year, we have been hard at work on a new series which is tentatively titled, **The Robin Hood Trilogy**. The first novel in the trilogy is complete, the second novel is in the editing phase, and we started to work on book 3.
> 
> Our upcoming **Robin Hood Trilogy** is a completely original work that will feature not only the legendary characters from the ballads of Robin Hood but also real historical figures. You can also count on meeting some unforgettable original characters! We anticipate publication of the first book in the autumn of 2017.
> 
>  **Here is the blurb** :
> 
> The Robin Hood Trilogy, Book 1: **Robin Hood’s Dawn**  
>  England, 1154-1194  
> A kingdom under assault.  
> A conspiracy born of anarchy.  
> A hero standing against tyranny.
> 
> Falsely convicted of a shocking crime, Robin Fitzooth, the Earl of Huntingdon, finds refuge in Sherwood Forest and becomes Robin Hood. Leading a band of men against the injustices of a malevolent sheriff and his henchmen, Robin begins to unravel a web of treachery threatening the English royal family.
> 
> As shadowy forces gather to destroy the future of a nation, Robin faces deceit, betrayal, and the ravages of war as he defends his king, his country, his people, and the woman he loves from a conspiracy so diabolical, so unexpected, that the course of history hangs in the balance.
> 
> From the mists of an ancient woodland, to lavish royal courts teeming with intrigue, to the exotic shores of the Holy Land – Robin Hood leads the fight in a battle between good and evil, justice and tyranny, the future and the past.  
> Part one of an exciting three-part retelling of the Robin Hood legend!


	19. author's notes

Hello, my dear readers!

I have great news! The first book in my new Robin Hood Trilogy is now available. You can find it at Amazon by searching on my author name, Olivia Longueville. I'm not allowed to post buy links at AO3 or FF.

I co-wrote it with Coleen561. Here are some excerpts from the book, to intrigue and entice you! 

Because I love my readers, I have lowered the price for the eBook for a limited time.

All I ask is that you post an honest review at the main Amazon dot com site.

Penelope

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Earl of Huntingdon**

_22 August 1188, Sherwood Forest_

Marian was laughing so hard that she was gasping for breath. She admonished, "You cannot put a hole in that cloud with an arrow."

"Why do you have so little faith in my abilities?" queried Robin with mock offense. "You are not even giving me a chance. Very well. Pick a leaf, any leaf, and I will pierce the center in one try."

Marian wiped a stray tear that had leaked from her eye during her unrestrained mirth. "How do you expect me to choose one leaf? The tree is thick with them. It does not matter which leaf I select; you will always claim that you pierced the correct one."

She beheld him as he stood there, bow in hand, his pale blue eyes sparkling with mischief, his boyishly handsome face sporting an impish smile, and his wheat-colored hair slightly ruffled owing to their spirited ride from the Locksley stables to their favorite meadow. Marian liked to imagine that it was an enchanted corner of the forest – a refuge dominated by a massive oak, one of the largest trees in this part of the greenwood.

"Well?" he demanded. "What shall I aim for next? I need a challenge, and you will not allow me to poke holes in the clouds, for fear that it will cause them to rain–"

"That is not what I said!"

Robin persisted, "And you refuse to choose a leaf, although there appears to be an abundance of leaves from which you could make a selection. I have already slain a brace of coneys and a pheasant. Elvina and the cook will be quite pleased with me."

Marian huffed in mock exasperation. "Elvina and the cook are always pleased with you." A sly twinkle brightened her eyes. "What about the pheasant you missed?"

"Missed!" he thundered. "No, no, I did not miss that pheasant. I never miss. Someone deliberately distracted me."

"It was accidental," she insisted with a grin.

Robin argued, "Sneaking up behind me and shouting, 'Do not miss,' just as I released the arrow was not accidental."

Their laughter faded as he took her hands into his. Marian gazed deeply into his eyes, attempting to learn every shift in the emotions that he guarded so well.

She believed that he revealed more of himself to her than anyone else, but he was still often a puzzle. At times, he was quiet and contemplative, obviously focusing his mind on some problem or issue, yet denying that he was thinking about anything important. On some occasions, she had seen him tense with anger, only to disguise his feelings by making a jest or laughing, even though he was clearly not amused. Marian knew that when he was truly battling his emotions, he would disappear into the embrace of Sherwood Forest, for Robin was a man who found comfort in the untamed beauty of nature.

Once, in a surprisingly candid conversation, Robin had described to her what the forest meant to him. He spoke of how the forest made him feel alive, and how each of his senses experienced the greenwood: the fragrances of pine and wild blossoms, the sounds of a rushing river at his feet and the rustling of leaves overhead, the taste of freshly gathered berries, the feel of a gentle rain against his face, and the vistas that could only be viewed from tree limbs high above the forest floor. Robin had told her that the forest was both vast, as it stretched to the horizon, and intimate, as the sheltering trees sometimes seemed to be crowding around him.

Marian had frequently pondered his words, and she longed to hear him speak openly about himself again. Unfortunately, whenever she asked him about his feelings or his thoughts, he deflected her questions with either a joke or a change of topic.

* * *

** **

**Chapter 6: The Earl of Sherwood Forest**

_25 August 1188, Sherwood Forest_

Forcing himself to redirect his thoughts away from Marian's perilous circumstances, Robin returned to his scrutiny of Gisborne's weapon. He frowned at the sword and mumbled, "Interesting."

"What is it, Lord Robin?" inquired Much.

Robin revealed, "This sword is quite distinctive."

Will leaned closer for a better view. "It looks like any other sword, except for all those marks on the blade."

Robin inspected the extravagant weapon as he described it. "This is an excellent sword, equal to the one I carry. It's unlikely that a landless knight like Gisborne would own such a weapon, although sometimes a wealthy noble will award a superior sword to his favorite squire on the occasion of his knighthood, especially if the knight will be tasked with guarding the lord."

Much felt confused. "Gisborne is Argentan's captain; he was probably his squire too. Why does the quality of this sword surprise you?"

Robin countered, "Much, do you remember the Barony of Argentan from our travels through Normandy?" At the quick shake of Much's head, he disclosed, "Well, I remember it. Argentan is not prosperous; it is small and insignificant. I wonder how Baron de Argentan could afford to give such an expensive weapon to his captain."

Rising, the three men strolled to a nearby spot brightened by a shaft of light, and Robin held the blade where the sun's rays could illuminate its elaborate designs. He continued to study it as Will and Much watched.

Much commented, "Those marks look like letters."

An amazed Will stared at Much. "You can read?"

Much's ruddy complexion darkened slightly in self-consciousness. "I can read a little. I was allowed to listen to Lord Robin's lessons, and his tutor kindly taught me many things."

Robin pointed to the elegant etching on the blade. "Notice these two lions – I saw something similar on Argentan's ring. Above the lions is a rising sun, and below them is a peculiar inscription."

Much squinted at the blade and grumbled in frustration. "I know my reading is not as well-practiced as yours, but I cannot decipher any of those words."

Robin smiled affectionately at his friend. "Be at ease, Much. It is not English; it is written in Latin. I've seen this style of inscribed sword in the past, but typically they are engraved with prayers, such as 'In the Name of the Father.'"

"Do you know what it says?" asked Will.

Robin replied, "I can translate it, even though the letters are crowded together. It says, 'From Shadows to Glory: I am Immortal, and My Kingdom Awaits.'" He harrumphed grimly, flustered by the unexpected phrase. He lowered the sword from the patch of sunlight as he became lost in his thoughts.

Robin blew out an exasperated breath. "Argentan mentioned shadows, but he was speaking in riddles. I must think on this more. For now, I will keep this sword; I want Gisborne to know that I have it."

Following Much and Will back to the campfire, Robin plotted Marian's rescue.

* * *

**Chapter 12: More Precious Than Silver**

_January 1189, South of Nottingham_

Argentan goaded Robin. "Many times I have heard the story of how your father sent Hugh of Gisborne to the shadows. Yet, you are hesitating. Why is that, Robin? Are you the son of Duncan Fitzooth, or are you a maudlin woman?"

Guy felt the pressure of Robin's knee vanish as the outlaw stood while still pointing his sword at Guy's throat. Robin then reached down and reclaimed Gisborne's weapon. "I will be keeping this sword, Gisborne. I've grown fond of it." Closely watching Guy, Robin instructed his friend, "Much, tie Gisborne's hands so that he cannot attempt another cowardly attack, if I turn my back again."

An apparently disappointed sheriff sneered, "Showing Gisborne mercy demonstrates to me that you are weak. Gisborne is weak too. It is a fatal flaw that you both share, along with your lust for the same woman. I find it interesting that the two of you have so much in common. What do you think, Robin Hood?"

Intently studying the sheriff, Robin parried Argentan's verbal thrust. "I think I'd like to know why you are communicating with King Philippe." Robin inwardly cheered when he saw the sheriff blanch.

Argentan was actually speechless for several moments, but he soon recovered and coolly replied, "I believe that life in the frozen forest has addled your mind. The King of France would never take notice of a humble baron from Normandy." He frowned and feigned sadness. "You are like a man lost in the twilight of a wintry day; the clouds have obscured the sun, and the abundance of shadows has confused your sense of direction."

Robin barked a short, humorless laugh. "Your riddles are absurd."

Argentan resumed, seemingly unperturbed. "Someday, my young Earl of Huntingdon, the sun will break through the clouds and illuminate everything around you. The truth of the shadows will be revealed."

"You have not answered me: why are you corresponding with the King of France?" Robin repeated while scrutinizing the sheriff's reaction. "Does King Henry know that he sent a spy to Nottingham?"

* * *

** **

**Chapter 17: The Lion Hunt**

_22 February 1192, City of Acre_

As he led the royal procession, Robin worriedly looked back at the litter carrying Marian. Her flaxen hair was concealed beneath a Saracen-style headscarf, and her litter had a fabric canopy to hide her from view. Marian was oblivious to the perils she faced in this land, where great wealth could be obtained by selling such a fair-haired beauty to the highest bidder. Although she had scoffed at Robin's orders that Much and Allan march beside her litter with their swords drawn, the two men had obeyed Robin's stern directives without hesitation.

Next to Marian's litter rode a sullen King Richard; he was still furious at Robin for his criticisms of their stalled Crusade. The fact that Robin was right had only fueled the king's temper, which burned hotter than the accursed desert sun. André followed Richard, and there were eight mounted knights protectively situated around the king and Marian.

Robin sighed loudly as he resumed his forward scrutiny of the road. He didn't have enough men to properly guard the king, but Richard, who was supremely confident in his fighting skills, had flatly refused to wait for reinforcements. Robin deeply resented the king's willingness to expose Marian to danger. It was inexcusably selfish and thoughtless in Robin's opinion, but he had no choice but to acquiesce to the king's demands. Because of the threat to Richard, Robin had instructed his men to wear helmets and chainmail hauberks under their surcoats. Additionally, they carried Norman-style kite shields, which had both neck and arm straps.

Robin had traveled too far ahead of the group, so he stopped and examined his surroundings with care. They were on a road flanked by the Genoese and Venetian quarters, and the harbor was a short distance away. Like many areas in this war-torn city, the buildings were heavily damaged. Removing his helmet to wipe the sweat from his brow, Robin observed that the street was strangely deserted, and he felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach. He signaled for the procession to halt. In the resulting eerie stillness, Robin concentrated all his senses.

"What is the problem?" the king gruffly complained with unmistakable impatience.

Robin did not respond; something was wrong, and he could feel it. Suddenly, a small rock fell from the heavens and rolled across the street. At first, he gave it little consideration as he put his helmet back on, but then his mind was filled with the awareness that stones do not drop from the sky like rain.

His eyes darted upward, and fear seized him as he recognized the familiar shape of a bow. Urgently, he yelled over his shoulder, "Shields up, left!" The well-trained knights, including the king, promptly raised their shields as the archers released a volley of arrows.

Robin turned his horse and sped to the king. He had seen three archers, and they were clearly targeting King Richard. Rejoining the others, Robin saw ten men brandishing swords and riding towards the royal party from a forward position, while another eight were approaching from the rear. There was no avenue of escape, and the king's elite guard arranged their horses in a defensive semi-circle around Richard and Marian, using the façade of an adjacent structure to prevent the enemy from completely surrounding them.


End file.
